Lost And Found
by Lady Silvamord
Summary: At the time, asking Sasuke to take her with him when he left Konoha seemed like a great idea. The outcome of that decision, though, throws Sakura into a predicament which leaves her at the mercy of the one person she would never have expected. ItaSaku AU.
1. Descent

_Lost And Found_

_At the time, asking Sasuke to take her with him when he left Konoha seemed like a great idea. The outcome of that decision, though, throws Sakura into a predicament which leaves her at the mercy of someone she would have never expected – and triggers a chain of events that nobody saw coming. ItaSaku AU. _

_Chapter One: Descent_

* * *

She had walked down that road, the only one that led out of the village, and prayed that she was just being irrational and that nobody would be out there on that dark, cold night but herself.

But then Sakura had seen him, hands in his pockets, slowly and almost casually making his way down the path – but it definitely wasn't just one of the average late night walks that she knew Sasuke indulged in every now and then. At once, the pink-haired kunoichi's gaze locked onto the simple green pack slung over his shoulders, and even though it had just been for a few seconds, the sight was traumatic enough that it felt like a hard physical blow to the face.

He was going to do it. He was serious. He was going to leave them – leave _her_ – and Sakura's terror was immediate and nearly paralyzing. She couldn't let it happen. She just couldn't. She was absolutely, completely sure that she could talk him out of it; this was probably just a temporary fit of mild insanity, and if there was to be a verbal confrontation, her logic would certainly win out.

But then Sasuke stopped right in front of her, glancing her way completely dispassionately, and all of her reserve just about flew out of the window. "What are you doing, wandering around here so late at night?"

Once, she would have been stupid enough to mistake the question as being motivated by caring or concern, but now, it just made Sakura's fingers clench into tight, nervous fists. She didn't want him to see how frightened she was – she didn't want him to see her as an obstruction weak enough to be simply tossed aside before he continued on. "Because…this is the only road you can take in order to get out of the village," she replied, fighting to keep her voice at some semblance of calm and even.

For a fraction of a second, she could have sworn that Sasuke raised an eyebrow at her. "Go home and sleep," he countered dismissively, before walking past her and continuing on down the path.

For a second, Sakura was lost. Her chest hurt fiercely, with the strain of repressing sobs of mixed despair and confusion, her hands were shaking slightly, and she had a pounding headache. Her throat was raw and clenched, and her eyes burned, and she had never felt so damn helpless before – and that really was saying something – because, what could she do? What could she _possibly _do to keep him from leaving? The majority of her was just tempted to give in to her emotions and try to convince him like that; telling him that revenge just wasn't the right path and that he would be better off staying and being happy in Konoha with her and Naruto, but the one part of her brain that was still functioning intelligently and logically told her that would have no power over Sasuke. None whatsoever. He would tire of listening to it, and subsequently incapacitate her somehow and leave.

"You can't do it alone."

Sakura had raised her voice loudly enough for it to carry through the still air, and even though it had seemed like a good idea in the split second before she had said it, she still experienced a moment of numbing fear as Sasuke turned back toward her very slowly. "What?"

The expression in his eyes and the look on his face were both a little frightening, but she had his undivided attention now – focused solely on her and not on leaving – and Sakura swallowed bravely, taking a few steps toward him. Rationally, she knew that she could never, ever convince him to stay. The next logical step? Convincing him to let her go. "Take me with you."

Sasuke actually made a small sound of derision in the back of his throat, but for the briefest of moments, Sakura had spotted a flicker of some unidentifiable emotion in his gaze, and for the first time, it struck her that Sasuke was only a human; only a boy, and he surely must not embrace or enjoy the idea of taking the path of solitude and revenge once again.

Emboldened somewhat, Sakura reached out, placing an arm on his tense, rigid shoulder gently. "I know I'm not the strongest," she stated, crossing her fingers behind her back and hoping with every fiber of her being that this would work. "But I'm smart and I'm willing to learn and…" – despite her best intentions, her voice caught in her throat, and she looked down at the cold dirt beneath her feet, ashamed at the tears welling up in her eyes and threatening to spill over. "I'd do anything for you, Sasuke-kun," she continued softly. "You know I would. I promise that I'll be nothing but an asset to you in whatever it is that you want to do. Just please don't…don't leave me behind."

For the first time, Sakura wished for her long hair back – for something; anything, to hide her from Sasuke's clinically searching gaze. She didn't want to cry; to be a pathetic little girl sobbing at him and deserving of nothing but his pity, but restraining the tears became harder with every moment that passed.

The silence stretched out for so long it felt unbearable, but when Sasuke finally spoke again, his voice was soft, and tinged with something bordering on incredulity. "Sakura…do you even know what you're saying?"

Her head snapped up, and something inside Sakura gave her the courage to finally look him in the eyes again. "Yes," she replied as firmly as she could, ignoring the clenching pain in her stomach. She felt horrible about it, but wasn't it the truth? "I have family here, and I have friends, but if you leave…" – _don't say it, Sakura, don't say it _– "…to me, it'll feel the same as being alone."

She almost winced immediately afterward, because laying her soul bare to Sasuke…he would be more inclined to rip it apart and discard it more than anything else, and she knew she wouldn't be able to handle it if he did.

_Please don't push me away, _Sakura prayed silently, unable to keep her fingers from twisting together anxiously. She felt so nervous and so emotionally spent that she realized if he were to attempt neutralizing her now, she wouldn't be able to put up any sort of physical or verbal resistance.

She looked away, because it was easier. The green leaves were being ripped from the trees as a result of the chilly winter wind, and they swirled back down the path, toward Konoha – toward everything safe and familiar and everything she could never go back to if Sasuke wasn't by her side and everybody that knew that she was too weak and powerless to keep him with their team – in loose, abstractly circular patterns.

Sasuke turned his back to her in one smooth movement and began to walk away without so much as a glance backward.

Sakura stared at him, utterly petrified. Was that…was that it? After all that, was he just going to leave, anyway? Without doing so much as silencing her so that she would be unable to scream for the guards at the eastern gate, if she were so inclined? Had Sasuke's thirst for revenge consumed him so completely that he had actually lost his mind?

"Sakura."

Sasuke stopped, turning his head ever so slightly to look at the poleaxed girl standing behind him. "…Are you coming or not?"

Even though Sakura didn't have what she considered to be a traditional shinobi's fighting spirit, she could still sense a challenge when she heard one – and Sasuke's question definitely sounded like one.

And, as a self-respecting kunoichi, she could definitely rise to a challenge when the occasion called for it.

A tiny, microscopic little voice inside her was screaming. What about Naruto, and Kakashi-sensei, and Ino? What about her mother, who regardless of her being almost completely emotionally checked out and not at all involved in her life, would undoubtedly experience _some _pain at the idea of losing her only daughter?

But at the same time…what about being the continuous third wheel in a team of talented male shinobi, or the one who was constantly overlooked in favor of her infinitely more talented peers? What about the fact that, if she stayed, Kakashi-sensei would probably never train her enough to be more than anything but a chunin-level and completely off-the-field, borderline-civilian tactician or analyst, if that? What about the knowledge that everybody would blame her for being the one who could have and should have stopped Konoha's most promising young shinobi from deserting?

What about the fact that, by even allowing her to follow him, Sasuke had indirectly acknowledged that, for whatever reasons, he needed her?

Sakura lifted her chin ever so slightly. The wind was bracing against her skin and racing along the length of her hair, and it even pushed against her back, nudging her forward.

In a few steps, she had caught up to Sasuke, and within a few minutes, they stopped silently at the barrier in front of the only exit from Konoha. Before Sakura could even blink, Sasuke performed a series of complex hand seals so rapidly that she couldn't even make out the individual gestures. There was a slight, almost imperceptible shift in the chakra fields around them, and just as easily as that, they exited the eastern gate of Konoha.

They climbed for what seemed like ages, straight up a steep, grassy incline. Sakura's calf muscles were beginning to ache, but she was careful to let none of the emotions that raged within her show on her face. Sasuke could still tell her to go back. If he knocked her out now and left her, they were far enough away that she might not be found for a couple of days, at least. She could feel the lights of the village at her back, calling her home, but she ignored them, keeping her eyes fixed ahead. There was nothing for her there; there was no future. If she was going to succeed in this new life, unlike the failure she had been back home, she had to start believing it. This was an opportunity to become a more powerful kunoichi and finally do something worthy with her life instead of being just Sakura; _just _poor, mediocre Sakura.

If Sasuke knew how deep in thought she was, he ignored it, but when he stopped suddenly, Sakura almost ran into his back.

She hadn't known what to expect – perhaps just the two of them wandering in solitude throughout the world, studying from the strongest shinobi in order to better themselves – but her expectations definitely did _not _include four Sound shinobi, kneeling on the ground before Sasuke, eyes lowered submissively.

To her astonishment, Sasuke didn't seem surprised in the least. He looked them over, seemingly entirely detached from the whole situation. "So…what's with the change in attitude?" he asked coolly, and beside him, Sakura's shoulders tensed even further, and she bit her lower lip hard. Who were these people, and what had she gotten herself into?

One of them spoke, looking up at Sasuke calmly. "It had already been decided that once you abandoned the village, you would become our new leader. Please forgive the rudeness we displayed earlier."

In the same instant, the four shinobi bowed even deeper. Sakura was now more than a little unnerved – she had taken one step backward completely unconsciously – and unsure whether to be thankful or not that the distinctly menacing-looking quartet hadn't acknowledged her presence in any way. She glanced in Sasuke's direction uncertainly, but he just smirked a little, walking past them and indicating that she do the same. "Like I care," he scoffed.

She didn't want to treat them with such blatant disrespect. She couldn't imitate Sasuke's coldly unconcerned attitude if she tried; if anything, Sakura was just frightened to have them at her back, but at the same time, she didn't want them to sense her fear and interpret that as weakness, either.

Sakura followed, after a split second of hesitation, and once she had caught up with Sasuke, she actually felt their presences rise behind her.

"Let's go," Sasuke commanded brusquely, and while three of them began to follow, one of them refused to move. It was the female; the red-haired kunoichi who was staring at Sakura in a way that made her want to slink behind Sasuke and hide, but she forced herself to stand up straight and meet the other girl's gaze evenly.

"What's with the spare?" the Sound kunoichi asked acerbically, her eyes flicking over Sakura as if she was nothing more than a piece of slime that had stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

Sakura bristled, but Sasuke beat her to a response. "She's with me," he said flatly, in a tone that brooked no argument, and before Sakura could even blink, he had actually enclosed her wrist in a firm, almost protective grasp, as he glared at his supposed new 'team.' "Now, _let's go_."

Without even checking if they had followed, Sasuke walked ahead, still holding onto her wrist, and Sakura had no choice but to follow. His jaw was clenched, his posture rigid, and it sent tiny shivers of trepidation down her spine.

Behind her—

"An extra wasn't part of the plan," the female was hissing in a soft, poisonous whisper to her teammates. "This could fuck everything up. We're still close enough to leave her behind, or we could just…persuade her to go back."

"Leave it, Tayuya," one of the males cut in sharply, forgetting to lower his voice. "If _he _wants her along with us, she must be worth something."

The weight of his expectations didn't make Sakura feel any better. Her stomach was a raging, churning knot, and it felt like her heart had jumped somewhere into the region of her chest. She hadn't signed up for this, and right now, she felt like she was walking right into a pit of venomous snakes. Sasuke's presence, and the aura of calm untouchability that he exuded, was the only thing that kept her from falling apart completely.

_Last chance, Sakura. _

But Sasuke was by her side, and _they _were behind her, and that was enough to scare her out of even thinking any further about turning around.

_You're doing the right thing, _she told herself, with every footstep that sank into the damp grass forward, and she repeated this mantra until even the warm lights of Konoha were just ghostly memories in the distance.

* * *

They traveled throughout the entire night.

She had never done anything like that before, ever_. _The Sound Four set a relentless pace on their own, and Sasuke was even faster. He traveled a good several meters in front of them, flying through the treetops as if it wasn't a strain on his body at all, and she had to keep up with him, because she was scared to death of falling behind even one pace and being closer to _them._ Nobody showed any signs of tiring, but if her muscles had just begunto ache while leaving the village…well, now every fiber in her body was screaming in protest. Sakura had never pushed herself like this; she never had a need to, before.

It was pitch-black outside, and cold. The wind resistance made traveling through the forest much more difficult, and the sounds of the night forest were ominous, to say the least. The glint of Sasuke's crimson bloodline limit was even more eerie in the darkness, and the quiet presence of the Sound team following them at a respectable distance still set every one of her nerves on edge.

Sakura hadn't slept since nine that morning. It had easily been fifteen hours since then, and three of them had been spent running at the most intense pace she had ever experienced. Her legs trembled every time she lit on a new branch, and every one of her instincts was just demanding that she allow herself to sink to the forest floor and find a safe tree to curl up against and sleep.

Sasuke spared a flickering glance over in her direction. "Do you need to slow down?" he asked, the words clipped by the wind.

_Oh, kami, yes. _

But…

_Grow up, Sakura. Prove to him – and them – that you can be worth something. _

"No," Sakura responded, forcing herself to keep her eyes fixed on a spot in the distance. "I'm fine."

Maybe she had imagined it, but for a split second, she thought she saw a flicker of approval in his gaze before he looked away again.

The sun was rising by the time Sasuke finally indicated to them that they would stop.

Every muscle from her hips down felt liquefied, and her swollen, reddened and heavy eyelids were on the verge of point-blank refusing to stay open. It took a concentrated effort for Sakura to focus her gaze on Sasuke as he regarded all of them levelly. Briefly, the pink-haired kunoichi observed that the Sound Four looked so rested and refreshed that it didn't even appear that they had just been traveling for eight hours straight.

There was something wrong about them, something completely unnatural, and once again, Sakura resolved to watch her back.

"We have an eight hour head start," Sasuke observed concisely, staring up at the rising sun with shadowed eyes. "It's likely that nobody will even notice we're gone for another few hours, and then we should get another two hours or so of them trying to figure out where we've gone, and perhaps another hour while the Hokage assembles a retrieval team. We can afford two or three hours of a break before continuing on. Is that clear?"

The Sound Four all murmured their assent before dispersing around the small clearing in order to rest. For her part, Sakura's knees simply gave out beneath her, and she slid to the ground, leaning against the trunk of a tree. The bark was rough, but she rested her head on it anyway, refusing to allow herself to think about what would happen next. Her mother would probably find her room empty and assume she had gone on a mission, and she probably wouldn't think twice about the issue again until the Hokage's messengers found her to tell her otherwise. And then…would she even care? Or would she just take this as an excuse to leave the village, as she had been wanting to for the past six years?

All Kakashi-sensei would register was the fact that he was missing his favorite student – Sasuke. Ino, thankfully, was out on a mission and wouldn't learn about this for the next two or three weeks.

_Naruto…_

Sakura's heart gave a painful twinge, and she turned her head to the side restlessly, unable to ignore the sudden, almost dizzying pang of guilt that had nearly left her breathless.

Sasuke was still standing in the middle of the clearing, she noticed suddenly, looking a little lost. Maybe he had just been thinking along similar lines as she had.

Sakura let her eyes drift shut, too emotionally spent to think any further; a few minutes later, though, she felt a familiar presence settle down at her side.

Sasuke didn't shrug her off when she leaned against his shoulder tentatively, and that knowledge, despite everything else, enabled Sakura to fall asleep with the faintest of smiles touching her lips.

* * *

_Konoha_

* * *

The hair on the back of the Godaime Hokage's neck stood up, as she slowly straightened from where she had been slumped over her desk. "_What_?" she hissed, narrowing her chocolate-brown eyes at the jounin standing across from her. "Are you sure?"

Kakashi inclined his head a fraction of an inch, and Tsunade could see the stress lines that had deepened in the corners of his eyes since the last time she had seen him, a few days ago. "Yes, Tsunade-sama," he replied heavily. "I had spoken with him last night, and some instinct told me to stop by his apartment this morning to check in." He closed his eyes for a brief moment, before continuing on, in response to Tsunade's unasked question. "There's no question about it. Most of his shinobi equipment is missing, along with the pack he always takes on missions. The apartment was locked from the outside and the landlord said he woke up this morning to find the key on the desk."

All the breath left Tsunade's body in a long sigh, and she leaned forward, bracing her elbows on the desk. "_Damn _it."

"That's not all, Tsunade-sama," Kakashi continued wearily, and he reached up to rub the back of his neck, obviously uncomfortable. "My other student, Sakura…she's missing as well."

Tsunade's heart skipped a beat as she stared at him. "You mean to say…?"

"She was really attached to him; she would have been as in tune with his…changes in behavior as anybody else, perhaps even more so. My guess is that she anticipated what he was going to do and tried to intercept him on his way out of the village and talk him out of it."

Tsunade pressed her fingers to her temples. "You're her sensei," she began slowly. "What's your assessment of the situation?"

Kakashi hesitated for a moment, looking at her seriously. "Sakura adored Sasuke, but…her mother still lives here, and she has friends here. Sakura isn't anything like him; she takes her bonds of friendship and loyalty a lot more seriously. Unless I'm gravely underestimating the depth of her devotion to him, she wouldn't have left here willingly."

Tsunade's fist came into contact with the sturdy wood of her desk, and a series of tiny cracks spread through the area of impact. "So, not only is Sasuke Uchiha a deserter, but a kidnapper as well. To drag an innocent girl into that snake's lair with him…"

She trailed off, voice trembling with barely repressed anger at the entire situation, and Kakashi cleared his throat diplomatically. "Will you engage a retrieval team?"

"A team of whom?" Tsunade retorted tiredly, pulling open a drawer and studying a roster of the shinobi forces present in the village at the moment. "The majority of chunin and jounin are out on missions right now, and we need the few we have left in the village in case of an attack."

"What about the genin?" Kakashi countered. "Shikamaru Nara is brilliant, and more than equipped to lead a team of our most talented genin – Hyuuga, Inuzuka, Akimichi, and probably even Naruto – after Sasuke and Sakura."

"The idea crossed my mind for about half a second," Tsunade sighed, still staring at the roster as if willing it to change. "Knowing Orochimaru, though, he wouldn't have trusted Sasuke to go to Sound by himself. He would have sent a team of at least four or five to accompany him, and Sound shinobi, with those curse seals…it would be utter madness to send _genin _after them, regardless of how talented they are. We would likely be guaranteeing those young men certain death, and as Hokage, I find that idea utterly unacceptable."

Kakashi blinked, momentarily stunned. "Then what are you going to do?"

Tsunade reached for a piece of paper from the corner of her desk. "I'm recalling one of the jounin teams from Sand and sending them toward Sound immediately," she said grimly. "We might lose some time, but I would rather take that risk over the idea of potentially losing the lives of such promising young shinobi."

"Very well," Kakashi acquiesced, inclining his head respectfully, even though his mind was a million miles away. He was not looking forward to telling Naruto about this…

He was halfway to the door when Tsunade called his name, and when he turned to face her, the Godaime Hokage looked fiercely determined. "We'll get them back, Kakashi."

"…I hope so, Tsunade-sama."

* * *

It took two days for them to get to Sound, and those two days were some of the most harrowing that Sakura had ever experienced.

Every time Sasuke let them take a break to sleep, she had nightmares about the people who would be sent after them. Once, she dreamed that Naruto came by himself, enraged beyond all belief, and he and Sasuke had fought viciously and brutally, nearly to the death.

She could tell that Sasuke was experiencing the same worries, too. Halfway through the first day of travel, he suddenly jerked his head toward Tayuya. "You. …Stay back; hold them off."

Tayuya complied, with a look of barely concealed resentment, and Sasuke grabbed Sakura by the wrist again, pulling her along at twice the speed. Her heart had been racing with apprehension, and her neck hurt from all the times she had turned back to look over her shoulder. Tayuya had faded out of sight quickly, and Sakura could tell that her teammates were more than a little apprehensive. The large one kept looking at the pale-haired boy, Sakon, worriedly. "It's her against four or five Konoha jounin," he whispered. "Do you think—"

Sakon kept his eyes fixed ahead. "It doesn't matter, alright? I know her; if we sense her chakra signature catching up to us within a couple of hours, she's alright. If we don't, she's gone. As long as we get him to Orochimaru-sama safe and fulfill our mission – that's the only thing that matters."

Four hours passed. There was no sign of Tayuya, and the five members of their remaining party all seemed to exhale at the same moment. Even though Sakura thought that, out of the entire Sound Four, she had disliked Tayuya the most and could summon no real grief at the thought that the fiery, bad-tempered kunoichi's corpse was probably lying crumpled at the bottom of the forest floor, the easiness at how Sasuke had effectively sentenced her to death did really unsettle Sakura.

At intermittent, random intervals, though, Sasuke ordered one of the others to stay back and face the Konoha team. Next was Kidomaru, and then Jirobou. None of them returned, and finally, her nerves feeling like they were on the verge of snapping from sheer strain, Sakura grabbed Sasuke by the arm, ignoring his vaguely surprised expression as she pulled him around to face her. She had never confronted him like this, ever, but this was different. This was unconscionable. In Konoha, the primary rule in a team was for each teammate to look after one another, but Sasuke was just throwing these Sound genin to the metaphorical wolves.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, horrified. "If we – or, well, they – all stop and stay back and face them one-on-one, of _course _they're going to be killed in succession, and now we only have Sakon and Ukon left—"

Sasuke stared at her unblinkingly, no sign of remorse in his eyes. "Sakura," he said, finally. "That's the point."

Sakura blinked, releasing him, as if burned. The words took a few moments to register, and as she gaped at him wordlessly, momentarily, she couldn't believe that this was the boy she and Naruto would lie in the grass with, as they watched the stars and pointed out constellations. She loved Sasuke, yes, but this was a side of him she had never even seen before.

Perhaps he had seen her thoughts reflected on her face, because he narrowed his eyes at her dangerously. "Look," he ground out, through gritted teeth. "We're almost at the Valley of the End. They won't pursue us further. I threw Tayuya, Kidomaru, and Jirobou at them on purpose – it's slowed them down; they'll never catch up to you and I on time, and we're the only ones that matter. The others were expendable – and Sakon's next, so _get used to it._"

Sakura bit down on her reply, looking away sharply. There were sudden tears pricking at the corners of her eyes; not because she was particularly attached to Sakon or anything, but he wasn't as bad as the others were, and it was the _principle _of the thing that she found so objectionable.

She heard Sasuke sigh impatiently, and the two of them traveled in tense silence for a few minutes, the quiet sound of Sakon following in the distance seeming to echo in the still evening air. It was cloudy, threatening rain, and Sakura kept her eyes fixed on the ominously dark gray clouds in a futile attempt to get her mind off what Sasuke had just said to her.

In half an hour, he stopped their diminished party of three and told Sakon to stay back. He did so without argument, but when Sakura hesitated, looking back toward him, Sasuke actually took her by the hand, intertwined their fingers together in a vice-like grip, and pulled her forward.

He didn't let go until they finally broke out of the forest, and even though she was sure she had fantasized and dreamed about holding hands with Sasuke a million times before, Sakura could find no joy in this. She wanted to yell at him and ask him why he had to do it – because, yes, the Sound Four were hardly her favorite people by any means, but…they were young, too. Fourteen, at most. They had personalities and friendships and hopes for the future, and she was sure they didn't include being callously sent to their death by the boy they were told to protect.

But then she wondered – if she was a better kunoichi, would she understand why he was doing it and realize that it was the only plausible way to deal with this situation?

Sakura's lips twisted bitterly, and she kept silent.

The sun was setting at their backs by the time they finally came out of the forest, and despite the conflict raging inside her, the sudden sight stole Sakura's breath away. The waterfall was the largest she had ever seen, and they were so high above the pool of water collecting beneath it that it made her dizzy. The spray from the water was cold, and she could feel the chilly mist against her cheeks. The statues were equally larger than life, and her gaze flickered to them for a moment. The border between Fire and Sound. She had seen pictures of the legendary landmarks in the history books she had studied while in the Academy.

"So…all we have to do is cross it?" Sakura asked quietly, staring down into the water. The sun's last dying rays were reflected in the raging surface of the pool, combined with the darkness that had already begun to steal over the sky.

"Yeah," Sasuke replied offhandedly, although she detected the vaguest, most fleeting note of doubt in his voice, for just a fraction of a second.

They stood side-by-side for what felt like forever, staring across the waterfall, into Sound, but predictably enough, Sasuke took the first step…and the next three, before finally turning around and glancing back at her. "…Coming?"

For about half a second, Sakura wondered if he would do it without her, because for all the cold, uncaring façade – for the first time, she sensed something different underneath it. That maybe he had enough vulnerability; enough humanity left, that he didn't want to do it alone.

Maybe it was stupid of her to not try and take a risk and perhaps ask him if this was really the path he wanted to follow; maybe she should at least attempt to persuade him to consider another course of action or way of gaining power…

Sasuke mistook her apprehension for something else, and he slowly, in a rather odd mixture of grudgingly and uncertainly, held out his hand to her.

Sakura bit her lip, but it was too late – and anyway, both of them knew that she would follow him to the ends of the earth if that was what he wanted. Regardless of whatever consequences that it might have.

Ignoring the slight shiver of trepidation that coursed through her spine, Sakura took Sasuke's hand, and followed him across the waterfall, into the darkness.

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

Hello again, guys. :)

I've been thinking about ideas for a new ItaSaku ever since Before The Dawn ended, but it took a while to find the one I really wanted to go with right now. Things have been pleasantly busy at school and with my family (my mom's recovery is progressing well, thankfully), but honestly, I was a little nervous about even starting something new, because so far, Before The Dawn has been my best, and I wanted to do something equally good, if not better. I have faith in this idea, but it is very, very different from my last one.

I apologize for the lack of Itachi in this chapter, but this was intended to serve as a prologue, of sorts. He'll show up soon. :)

Last but not least, thank you to the amazing SwiftKick for taking the time to read this over and critique it. Everybody, if you want to read a fantastic ItaSaku fic (or several), look up SwiftKick's profile right now. I strongly recommend _Slant_. Great plot, great characterization…all in all, it's lovely.

As always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :)


	2. Desolate

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was marvelous enough to review. :)_

_Chapter Two: Desolate_

* * *

The other recruits were all lined up behind her, safe for the moment, and Sakura was trying her best to keep from trembling.

Her nails had gouged vicious half circles into the insides of her palms, and she was biting the inside of her cheek so hard that she thought she registered the cold, metallic tint of blood on her taste buds. Despite that, the pink-haired kunoichi had to grit her teeth together to keep the lower half of her face from betraying any of the raw terror she felt. The weight of Sasuke's eyes trained on her back were the only thing that gave her a small measure of courage, enabling her to stand up straight and face Orochimaru with at least some amount of dignity.

He looked her over dismissively, though, and then seemed to stare right through her, at the man standing at her back. "Tell me, Kabuto," Orochimaru commented coldly, "does this…girl…have any redeeming qualities whatsoever?"

Sakura fought the urge to close her red-rimmed, aching eyes and indulge in a silent moment of desperate prayer. Regardless of the fact that she could practically feel the killing intent radiating off Sasuke in increasingly menacing waves, she knew that, regardless of how much Orochimaru wanted to cultivate _him, _it was Kabuto Yakushi who ultimately held her fate in his hands.

Regardless of the immediate, warm welcome that he had given Sasuke as soon as the two of them entered the first seemingly deserted military base on the outskirts of the village, Orochimaru had directed one look at her and written her off as a lost cause – but Sound, unlike Konoha, apparently had no inclination to waste resources on unskilled, weak shinobi like herself. He had announced as much to the present gathering, as well – one white-haired boy who looked like an unnerving mixture of shark and human, a redheaded girl who was staring at Sakura appraisingly, and a toweringly large boy who was observing the unfolding happenings quietly and calmly.

It had been humiliating, of course; enough to make Sakura want the ground underneath her to open into a giant chasm and swallow her up. Had she been stupid, to think that _these _people would be willing to train somebody like her? Maybe staying in Konoha would have been better; where she was embarrassed and hurt more by the things that people didn't say than the things that they did.

But that was useless thinking. The fact of the matter was that she had followed Sasuke here, and maybe, it would ultimately be worth nothing, and she would be discarded like the piece of trash that Tayuya had accused her of being.

A strange sense of calm detachment flooded over Sakura, countering the rage that she practically felt Sasuke quietly repressing. If they were alone, she would have fallen to her knees and begged Kabuto to let her live, if that was what he wanted her to do. She would do anything, but right now, she could do nothing. Even she had more pride than to lower herself like that in front of so many potential rival shinobi.

But then Kabuto's hands were on her shoulders, the unexpected touch startling and wearing on her already strained nerves so much that Sakura had to exercise a conscious effort not to flinch away from it. She heard Sasuke catch his breath, and Orochimaru raised an eyebrow, obviously quite surprised.

"She has quite a bit more than just 'redeeming qualities,' Orochimaru-sama," Kabuto stated quietly and smoothly, his voice echoing around the underground chamber, as he bowed his head out of respect. "If you allow it, I would like to place her under my tutelage. My experience in the chunin exams has taught me that little Sakura is incredibly intelligent, and that, combined with her excellent chakra control, should make her a perfect candidate for training as a medic-nin and specialized medical ninjutsu combatant. She can see through many genjutsu, as well, and I believe that she could even be trained as a genjutsu specialist if the other option fails."

Sakura tried not to look surprised – to accept the statement with calm indifference, as if she knew it to be true. But…_perfect candidate_? Medic-nin? Specialized medical ninjutsu combatant? What did all of that _mean, _and how could it actually be a viable future for her? Nobody in Konoha had ever hinted that she had any aptitude as a field shinobi like all of her comrades did, but nobody had mentioned this possible career option, either.

Orochimaru exhaled, turning around in one smooth movement, as if the conversation had already bored him. The fabric of his clothing rustled, and Sakura couldn't help but think of the dry sound snake scales made as they slithered across stone floors. "So be it, then," he stated coolly. "Come with me, Kabuto."

He slunk away, off to the dark, distant doorway on the other side of the expansive chamber, and Sakura released a breath that she didn't even know she had been holding, before turning back to face Sasuke.

It startled her, momentarily; how pale and shaken he looked, his bloodline limit burning with an uncommon, frightening intensity. Sasuke had appeared to be totally unruffled up until the moment that Orochimaru had turned to her, so – was all that emotion actually for _her? _Sakura thought that it bordered on sweet, if completely bewildering, but the girl who had been standing next to him had steadily edged away, and relocated herself to the other side of the shark-boy, who was staring at Sasuke curiously.

Sakura wanted to say something to Sasuke, something to alleviate the burning emotion still visible on his face, but she had just opened her mouth when she finally allowed her gaze to flicker over the other occupants of the room a little warily. So they were more of Orochimaru's recruits. None of them triggered that same, visceral fear in her as the Sound Four had. These three seemed…normal. Different, yes, and intimidating in the way all new people intimidated her, but not _bad. _And if they had all been recruited by Orochimaru and were now supposedly devoted to working to further Sound's agenda, they were all on the same side, and should have no reason to fear one another. Should have. Sakura's initial reaction was to distrust anybody from Sound, but if she was going to stay here, she would be better off not making any enemies right off the bat.

Almost at the very second that her brain processed the last thought, the red-haired girl finally looked Sakura in the eye. It was unnerving, to say the least, and for the second time in as many minutes, Sakura had to fight the urge to recoil. The girl's irises, behind her thick-rimmed rectangular glasses, were blood red, the same vivid color as her unevenly chopped hair. She couldn't sense any bloodline limit in her, not like Sasuke, but…

"So, you're going to be our medic, for sure?" the girl asked, tossing one side of her hair back over her shoulder. Her voice was loud and brash – similar to Ino's in a way that made Sakura's heart hurt – but not overtly aggressive. Something in Sakura told her that this girl, though, was different from Ino in that if she sensed weakness in somebody, she would simply hone in on that weakness and destroy them; not try to build them up into a stronger person. But…there seemed to be no judgment in her voice; no negative emphasis put on the word '_you're_'. Maybe she was safe.

Sakura was vaguely conscious of the two other boys approaching Sasuke and beginning to speak to him, blocking him from her view. She had to deal with this one on her own. She couldn't rely on him to give her strength all the damn time – she had to find it within herself.

Sakura made herself incline her head noncommittally, leaning against one of the solid stone support pillars in order to give her body something to do, and to make it look like this conversation wasn't already stressing her out more than she could bear. "Apparently."

Her voice only shook a little, but to Sakura's gratitude, the other girl didn't seem to notice. "That's great. And, by the way, I'm Karin," she stated confidently, leaving the larger pack in order to join Sakura by the pillar.

The sudden change in demeanor was a little confusing, leaving Sakura with the feeling that she had just passed some kind of imperceptible test. "…Nice to meet you," she said, trying to harness the innate confidence of Inner Sakura. "I'm Sakura."

Karin just nodded her head in acknowledgement this time, slipping into a suddenly pensive mood. Sakura couldn't help but notice that, despite her short black shorts, she wore an incongruously thick, long sleeved shirt with it – and that her left hand kept drifting up to the inside of her right arm, which she was rubbing repeatedly. "Well, it's going to be really nice, to finally have a real medic around here," she said, her suddenly soft, almost meek tone a strange counterpoint to the attitude that had been there earlier.

"Why?" The asinine question slipped out before Sakura could stop it, and she couldn't help but wince. Well, _duh. _So that somebody would be there to patch their wounds up after a rough sparring session or something of the like.

To her surprise, though, Karin glanced back over her shoulder, making sure none of the boys could see them, and then began to roll her sleeve up wordlessly. She had screwed her eyes shut, and her face was beginning to contort with pain. "…If Orochimaru-sama was right and you really just tagged along with that insane kid, it's about time that you learned what you were stupid and moronic enough to get yourself into. You just have no idea, do you?" she snapped suddenly, and Sakura cringed back despite herself, stunned by the sudden vehemence. As if she wasn't already wary enough about the situation…

It took a few moments and an obvious effort on the other girl's part, but Karin finally took a few deep breaths and fought to calm down, continuing on in a relatively normal tone of voice. "At the same time, I figure you should probably know what you're saving me from and why I feel this totally irrational need to like you because of that. Look."

Against her better judgment, Sakura looked – and she didn't want to, but she cringed, and before she could even blink, one of her hands had somehow pressed itself over her own mouth in order to hold back the sound of mingled horror and revulsion that threatened to escape from it.

Bite marks. Several raw, reddened, horribly painful-looking bite marks indented the pale, sensitive skin of Karin's arm. Those were just the fresh ones. Hideous, twisted scars, from older bites, were heavily interspersed with those, and Sakura had to look away sharply to keep from gagging at the site of what looked like a particularly vicious, purple-tinted bite right above the other girl's elbow.

"It was an accident," Karin whispered, not looking Sakura in the eye. "Long story short – it happened a few months ago, all because of Jugo's stupid-ass cat. It had walked with a limp for as long as any of us could remember, and it _hated _me. It tried to steal some fish off my plate once, I hit it, and it sunk its teeth into my hand. The limp disappeared overnight. Orochimaru-sama noticed, and…he wanted to do some experiments on me to see if the effect extended to humans. It didn't work exactly as well, but it was close enough to make him happy. He doesn't like Kabuto to waste his energy on healing anybody but him, so he sends all the others to me…"

Karin's voice trailed off, her eyes looking blankly into the distance, as she unconsciously tugged the collar of her shirt even closer to the base of her throat. Sakura was quite sure that she was on the verge of throwing up out of sheer disgust, and her knees nearly went limp with gratitude when the other kunoichi finally rolled down her sleeve. Karin seemed unwilling to look at her now. "So, learn fast," she said brusquely, after a few long moments had passed, and even though the attitude was back, Sakura picked up on the word left unsaid.

Because Sasuke was still talking to the other two boys, and because she figured, in a moment of quite uncharacteristic recklessness, that she had nothing to lose, Sakura extended a tentative smile in Karin's direction. "I will."

Karin seriously looked like she was trying not to, but her lips twitched incriminatingly. Looking rather displeased at the momentary lapse in her usual hauteur, she settled for giving the stone pillar an equally uncertain half-smile, half-grimace – which was obviously intended to be some sort of compromise. "Good."

* * *

She shared a room with Karin.

Sasuke, Suigetsu, and Jugo (the latter two whom Karin had introduced her to a little while later), had a larger room one flight of stairs higher than they did, and even though she knew it wasn't practical to expect anything different, Sakura had been strangely reluctant to part with Sasuke, even for the night. He was the only vestige of home she had left, after all; the only familiar thing that remained for her to cling to…

Karin's voice in the darkness jolted her out of her thoughts. Even though the girl was somebody she or Ino would have disliked on sight back in Konoha, here, Sakura wasn't stupid enough to turn down an overture of friendship. Making enemies out of these other shinobi would be a fatal mistake…and besides that, something in her sensed that despite her brusque, obnoxious attitude, Karin must have been lonely for all those years, with only Suigetsu and Jugo as company. "It's kind of cold down here, but you get used to it," she stated exhaustedly, and Sakura could just barely make out her darkened silhouette and the creak of the other battered bed as she shifted positions. "The boys have the only room – well, besides Orochimaru-sama's – that has heating. But we have to be up at sunrise every day, so it's nice not to have to force ourselves awake."

Sakura closed her eyes, turning her back to Karin. The other girl was right – their room was icy cold, chilling her to the bone. They didn't have pillows, and there were only thin, threadbare sheets thrown haphazardly over the too-hard beds, that served as blankets. The small window had no shades; and the bright silver full moon threw a bold sliver of light onto the stone floor. She could see nothing else out the window. No buildings, no lights; just lonely acres of forest.

Now that Sasuke was gone, the full force of the homesickness hit Sakura squarely in the chest with all the brutality of a completely unexpected heavy physical impact. She could do nothing but turn on her side and draw her knees up to her chest, curling up into a fetal position.

She was _so _far away from home – in a place where, instead of kind, compassionate Tsunade-sama, there was a leader who thought nothing of cruelly victimizing a young girl instead of training proper medics, or putting his own to good use. This…Orochimaru…was who Sasuke thought would mold him into a truly powerful shinobi, one skilled enough to kill his despised older brother.

_Itachi._

For the first time, Sakura thought the name, and it sent shivers down the length of her spine. She had seen a picture of him, once – of the entire Uchiha family, when she had been in the library, looking at clan history books. She had been in the Academy at the time, and she had to do a report on the history of Konoha's founding. The yellowed photograph was folded into a seemingly obscure volume, and she had picked it up and examined it curiously, wondering who had put it there, even while drinking in the now decimated family with her eyes. Fugaku appeared as tired and severe as Mikoto was gentle and warm. The five-year-old Sasuke was utterly adorable, but after a few moments, Sakura's eyes drifted to his older brother. Itachi would have been twelve or so, then. Before she could think any better of it, she realized that he was actually really cute. By the time the thought even registered, she had already flung the photograph back down onto the table as if it had burned her, utterly disgusted with herself, for more reasons than one. Despite the obvious – well, Sasuke didn't read these kinds of books, and besides, she doubted that he would deliberately leave behind such a memento of his family.

Maybe the last person to touch the photograph had been Itachi. He didn't kill the entire Uchiha clan in a fit of passion – he couldn't have; that level of violent insanity was beyond her comprehension. Maybe Itachi had put this photograph in the book, symbolically leaving his family behind, on the night that he had decided that he was going to slaughter every last one of them – maybe a year before, or a month, or a week.

Bile rose in her throat even at the memory of that evening two years ago, and Sakura buried her head into the thin sheets as best as she could, trying to hide from the night, as she hadn't for years. She used to be afraid of evil spirits and ghosts and demonic monsters, but now those fears had a tangible, physical embodiment. _Itachi. Orochimaru. Sound. _

It was worth it, she told herself. Being here was worth it; it had to be. Maybe Sasuke had been right – maybe only working with shinobi this cruel and ruthless would prepare him to face Itachi and win.

She knew it wasn't the right attitude, but Sakura only hoped that day would come sooner rather than later, so they could end this nightmarish chapter in their lives and return to Konoha.

* * *

_The Next Day_

* * *

It was a dungeon. There was really no other way to describe it.

Like Sakura was quickly learning, everything in this particular Sound base was dark, cold, and made out of solid stone. It created a sinister atmosphere; one that made her jump at the ever-shifting shadows and reflexively look over her shoulder into the darkened hallways every few moments. The basement, though, which Kabuto had told her was his personal lab and working space, was definitely the most unsettling area she had been in yet. This was really quite unfortunate, seeing as she would probably be spending most of her time there.

The low-ceilinged enclosure was lit only by two exposed light bulbs dangling from the ceiling, throwing pale swatches of wavering yellowish light into the room. Every inch of the walls were covered in shelves, and every inch of the shelves were covered by small, neatly labeled glass bottles, vials, and containers of every description. They all seemed to be full to the brim with any manner of substances – liquids in every color, and different sorts of powders and what appeared to be crushed roots. The stale air smelled like a mixture of heavy chemicals, herbs, and very vaguely, layered underneath the other scents – blood. Heavy, sweet, and metallic…and so much of it that it couldn't be masked by anything else.

The thought made Sakura shiver a little in a way that couldn't be attributed to the cold, and she forced herself to redirect her attention to Kabuto, who was patiently leading her on a tour of the underground space. The two stainless steel, uncovered operating tables kept commanding her attention, though, along with the adjacent open displays of hundreds of cruel-looking surgical tools.

Kabuto noticed her looking, and he gave her a sincere-looking smile, reaching out to pat the top of her head delicately. It took all of Sakura's self-control not to cringe away. "I see you're fascinated, Sakura-chan, but not just yet. We'll have to learn all the practical, mundane things first before you can assist me in performing Orochimaru-sama's special experiments."

_Experiments_?

She briefly envisioned the type of 'experiments' that would require the use of such instruments of torture, and Sakura had to bite her tongue to keep her expression neutral. She had a brief, nightmarish flash of somebody holding a frightened Karin down to that same operating table, strapping her arm down, and forcing her to lie still while a dark, faceless shinobi bent down over her and sunk his teeth into her wrist and…

She needed some air. She _really _needed some air. She needed to bolt out of this eerie laboratory and up into the sunlight and fresh air, but—

"I think that I must be boring you," Kabuto announced blithely, pushing his glasses higher up on his nose and fixing his unsettlingly clear gray eyes on her. "I admit that I was the same, when I was your age. Perhaps you would benefit more from a hands-on demonstration."

Before Sakura could even blink; before her mind could even fully comprehend the statement, Kabuto had already grabbed her by the neck and pushed her up against the steel counter next to the operating table, trapping her body between that and his own. Her hip collided painfully with the open drawer of surgical tools, and the pink-haired kunoichi staggered, feeling the edge cut right into her hipbone, and the sharp sensation of pain stealing her vision away for a moment.

"What—" Sakura gasped, unsure of why she was suddenly under attack, but before she could even complete the belated punch that she had directed at his ribcage, Kabuto twisted his fingers together, pressing vicious strikes that drove the breath from her body into the soft spots between her shoulders and chest.

The result was paralyzing and immediate, and her knees almost collapsed beneath her. She couldn't move her arms at all, but Sakura's panic only reached new heights when she felt Kabuto's cold fingers curling around the back of her neck, so that his index finger pressed into the very top of her spine.

Maybe he was pressing down, but she couldn't feel it, and the lethargy that stole over her body was the most crippling feeling she had ever experienced.

Was he killing her?

Even the instinctive revulsion and fear that surged up inside her was no match for whatever he was doing, and Sakura was vaguely conscious of her head unconsciously slumping forward to rest on his shoulder. She couldn't lift her head; she had been completely immobilized. How was it that he had hurt her like that in under half a minute, with just two simple movements?

Distantly, she heard him speak, and that sent another pang of sharp fear down her spine – before she realized what exactly he was saying.

"That was all really very easy, Sakura-chan," he informed her cordially, stroking her hair with repetitive, gentle strokes, as if she were a young child. Her body was limp from head to toe, and she was totally powerless to move away, even though his touch made her want to be sick. "I apologize for the roughness, but it was the best way to communicate the simplicity of the entire procedure to you. I can see that you do not have the requisite personality to sit through hours of redundant learning of the simple basics. That is understandable. I do not intend to waste your time by doing so, but I do expect you to read up on those things on your own. By the end of tomorrow, I will teach you how to disable or severely injure your opponent with one chakra-laden strike – like I just did to you. Normally, you will execute one strike to the chest to kill, but you can manipulate other pressure points as well, depending on the situation."

With three simple touches, apparently disregarding how violently her body was trembling, Kabuto reversed the technique, stepping back and giving her another one of his strangely gentle smiles. "Any questions?"

Sakura closed her eyes for a moment, trying to force herself to acknowledge here was no need to be frightened. No need whatsoever. It had just been…a demonstration. A demonstration on how to disable, severely injure, or kill other human beings.

"I thought medic-nin were supposed to heal, not kill," she blurted out, before she could think better of it.

For a few seconds, Kabuto stared at her, his eyes widening into a shocked expression behind his glasses. But then, he began to laugh, sounding truly amused by her idealistic statement.

Sakura just watched him, stony-faced, and finally, Kabuto had to force himself to stop, although he reached out and patted her cheek almost affectionately. "You're a Konoha genin through and through, aren't you?" he asked, but then the smile disappeared. "We'll make a real kunoichi out of you, Sakura-chan. This will pass, don't worry about it."

_Like hell it will._

The response from Inner Sakura was so immediate and forceful that it almost left Sakura's lips as well, but she stopped it at the last moment, and gave Kabuto a close-lipped, noncommittal smile instead.

* * *

_Interlude_

* * *

_I'm in Sound, but I didn't come here for the same reasons as Sasuke. I'll get stronger, but I will never lose my humanity in doing so._

_And I won't let him, either._

* * *

Sakura learned how to stop hearts with one strike (close-range) or form six hand seals, in conjunction with six different concentrations of chakra each time (far-range) to do the same thing.

She could cause death one hundred different ways with medical ninjutsu alone, and thirty-six more if she was inclined or forced to engage in hands-on physical combat. If all else failed, Sasuke had taught her five genjutsu that would drive the recipient into certain insanity. And if certain situations required more finesse, she was just barely passable at crafting a few poisons…just in case.

Kabuto taught her every one of the offensive medical ninjutsu himself, and he forced her to demonstrate them on living beings – rabbits, deer, Orochimaru's prisoners. It broke her heart every single time and sometimes she would hold the rabbits afterward and cry into their soft fur. Sakura didn't want to hurt them – she hated the thought of hurting anybody, even though it gained her respect as a Sound kunoichi. Respect of the caliber that she had only dreamed of achieving in Konoha. She was almost sixteen now, and if she were to take the chunin exams tomorrow, she would literally destroy her opposition…even other incredibly strong kunoichi, like Temari of the Sand, who she had been in frightened awe of, four years ago. She had become the kind of kunoichi she had once envied, yes, but…she hadn't wanted to do it like this. When Kabuto had said 'medic-nin', she had never envisioned becoming somebody like this. If, all those years ago, somebody had given her the choice between remaining powerless or gaining power through killing…she would much rather use her training as a medic-nin to help others, and gain renown that way. That just wasn't an option in Sound, though. The weak and sick and unlucky died, and the only people – herself and Kabuto – who could help them were forced not to.

She couldn't hold the prisoners and apologize to them, afterward, though – the poor prisoners, with their broken bodies and hollow eyes – because Sasuke was always telling her that Orochimaru would simply take that as enough grounds to have her executed for treason.

Sakura couldn't shake the feeling that Orochimaru had never gotten over his dislike of her…even though he complimented her enough whenever Kabuto sang her praises, which he did very frequently. Orochimaru was a dangerous person to have as an enemy, but she couldn't bring herself to care much about it. He didn't have the influence over her that he did over the others, and he knew it.

Maybe that was a bad thing, or the reason why Jugo would always look at her with a worried expression in his eyes.

It was worth it, though. Even if she had to keep certain things a secret – like the small, almost-forgotten section of the always-deserted library that had books about things that Kabuto had never spent much time teaching her – it was worth seeing Karin's eyes light up with true happiness on the day when the two of them had sat on the floor together and Sakura had healed all the hideous bite scars from both of her arms. Or the exhilaration and adrenaline rush triggered during this latest escapade: taking advantage of one of Orochimaru's rare absences to sneak off the Sound base and volunteer at the tiny, sorely understaffed medical clinic in one of the border towns.

"You're an idiot, Sakura," Sasuke told her bluntly, after he had discovered her absence, left the base as well, and after a protracted argument, ended up physically dragging her out of the clinic, once Sakura had finished healing the last elderly patient suffering from a seemingly intractable and debilitating respiratory disease. Sasuke's eyes shone bright with the crimson light of his bloodline limit as he turned back to glare at her, and even though he had interlaced their fingers together while forcing her to leave with him, the pressure of his hand against hers was more forceful than comforting against the harsh winter air.

"Just because I have compassion and am capable of actually caring for others, Sasuke-kun," Sakura replied, through gritted teeth, "does _not _mean that I'm an idiot."

Sasuke made a disparaging sound in the back of his throat, releasing her hand disgustedly and whirling around to face her. He had grown a lot in the past three years, to the point where he almost towered over her, but Sakura just watched him evenly, not intimidated in the least, and her old genin teammate narrowed his eyes at her. "I don't even know why you followed me out here," he finally snapped, turning back around and continuing down the narrow, desolate path back to the Sound base. "You're not cut out for it, Sakura. You should just go back."

Sakura glared at his back, pulling her heavy winter coat closer around her petite frame. She could tell by the heightened aggression of his behavior that the curse seal was giving him trouble…and that Orochimaru had probably been trying to coerce him into _that_ once again. "You know damn well why I did it," she retorted heatedly. "And, firstly, if you really don't care that much about me and want me to go back, you shouldn't have cared enough to come raging out here in the middle of a storm in order to drag me back to precious _Orochimaru-sama's_ base. Secondly…" all the last vestiges of her patience abandoned her, and thankful for the traction granted by her knee-high boots, Sakura caught up to Sasuke in one smooth movement, grabbed his arm, and pulled him back, forcing him to look at her. For a fraction of a second, he looked bewildered by this…like the twelve-year-old boy she had followed three years ago. "You had better tell me that it's working," she gasped, regardless of the icy wind that hurt her throat, tore at her short skirt, and threatened to rip her scarf from around her neck. "_Don't _tell me that you're listening to all that…all that _shit _that he feeds you about him using you as his next host—"

"Sakura," Sasuke interrupted icily, each of his words cutting her like sharp blades, as he wrenched himself free of her. Not for the first time, Sakura watched the barely repressed rage flicker through his eyes – it was _horrible _what the past years had done to his mental state. "How many times do I have to tell you? If it means that I can kill Itachi, I'll do it. I'd do _anything_."

Something in her heart fractured at those words. How was it, that every day for the past three years, she had been trying to help him preserve his humanity, and still, he just wanted to throw it away? "Sasuke-kun, he only wants the Sharingan, and kami, it'll practically kill you—"

"Sakura," Sasuke cut her off harshly, turning away. "Just…shut up for once, alright?"

They walked to the base in silence. Sasuke's body language was intensely closed off to an extent that Sakura hadn't seen in a while, and it made every fiber of her being hurt. Bitterly, she remembered her younger self's ideal about what running away from Konoha with Sasuke would be like…it wasn't this. Hell, no.

She still loved him with all the intensity and passion she had when she was younger – if anything, her devotion to him had only grown with the time that had passed. Except that this time, Sasuke wasn't just saying no to a date at Ichiraku or something stupid like that. He was saying that he was willing to sacrifice his own life; his own soul, being, essence, _future _– just to kill Itachi.

And he would do it, too. She knew he would.

Despite the fact that he still seemed to be giving her the silent treatment, Sasuke showed every sign of intending to walk her to the room that she shared with Karin. Sakura followed him, her movements shifting to autopilot as she began to think.

_Itachi. _Damn him. There were times that Sakura could delude herself into believing were relatively normal, like the occasional evenings that all five of them got off, and she, Sasuke, Jugo, Suigetsu, and Karin would retreat to one of the clearings in the forest immediately behind the Sound base, and grill food over a fire and just talk and enjoy each other's company. But, in the end, all of that didn't matter, and all of it boiled down to Itachi – and Sasuke's fanatical, frightening obsession with hunting down and killing him.

Sakura had a lot of faith in Sasuke's abilities; she really did. She had seen him, Suigetsu, and Jugo sparring together, and Sasuke always came out on top. But against Itachi…the pink-haired kunoichi shuddered reflexively, pushing away a horrible mental image of the elder Uchiha psychologically torturing her teammate. She couldn't pretend to be optimistic when it came to the idea of confrontation – if anything, the likeliest option seemed to be that Itachi and Sasuke would actually destroy each other.

The thought made her flinch imperceptibly, her fingers twisting into the black material of her short skirt and holding onto it in a white-knuckled grip, but if Sasuke noticed, he gave no indication of it.

Maybe someday, he'd be strong enough to face Itachi and win. The only problem was that Sasuke didn't seem content to wait for that.

The way she saw it, she had two fundamental options to prevent the unthinkable from happening. One: leave the Sound base, hunt Itachi down, and dispose of him herself. Sakura had enough confidence in her intelligence to know that she could likely fabricate a decent plan in doing so, perhaps even allowing her to gain the upper hand at first, but mere intelligence against _the _Itachi wouldn't get her far. From the limited information Sasuke had disclosed, Itachi was intellectually brilliant and a tactical genius as well. More likely than not, that plan of action would get her captured and potentially subjected to a long, torturous execution. Unless she somehow could get within killing range of him without him detecting her presence, and the chances of that were extraordinarily slim.

Even though the very thought of Itachi was enough to make her heart beat a little bit faster and her insides quiver in fear and trepidation, Sakura was mildly surprised to realize that she _would _do it – she would try her best to hunt him down and kill him, if only it would save Sasuke.

There was no really graceful way to state this, she concluded, as the two of them climbed the last flight of stone stairs in silence. Love made her stupid.

Sasuke leaned against the doorframe to her and Karin's room, watching her expressionlessly. Even though there was no sound from inside – which eliminated the ever-present and rather horrifying threat of walking in on Karin and Suigetsu in a compromising position – Sakura didn't make a move to enter, instead opting to look up at him through lowered eyelashes.

The second option was far more realistic, but almost even more difficult to execute: to make Sasuke realize that allowing Orochimaru to take over his body was absolutely, unequivocally the wrong option…even if it did mean that he would be able to exact his revenge upon Itachi by doing so.

Despite the fact that Sasuke snapped at her more often than he talked to her in a normal sort of tone, it was a testament to the strength (or, well, at least _presence_) of his trust for her, that he didn't flinch when Sakura tentatively reached out to him, brushing his cool, alabaster cheeks with the palm of her hands, and then trailing them down to his broad shoulders and wrapping around his neck. Her throat was tight with repressed nerves, mingled with confusion at the way he was looking at her – apparently cool and disinterested – but he hadn't made any move to shake her off yet, so…

Her boots granted her an extra couple of inches in height, but Sakura still had to stretch up on the tips of her toes in order to slowly, uncertainly press her lips to Sasuke's. She had warmed up, but he was still cold from the snow. For a few agonizing moments, he didn't move even a muscle in response, but then one of his arms curled around her lower back, pulling her body flush against his.

True to his nature, that was the only indication he gave her that the kiss hadn't been totally unwelcome. He didn't reciprocate the gentle pressure of her lips against his, instead choosing to simply press his hand down into her back, and after a little while longer, Sakura finally withdrew a scant few inches. As was customary after each one of their exchanges – which, aside from a few rare occasions, Sasuke never _reciprocated_; he merely _allowed_, which was supposed to be good enough for her – he didn't acknowledge her, save for the slightest flickering of his dark gray eyes over her body.

As always, something small inside her felt the disappointment, but Sakura embraced him again nevertheless, turning her face up and inhaling the smoke-and-ash scent of him. His arms hung stiffly at his sides and her heart was pounding, but she spoke anyway, flattening the palm of her hand over his heart. "Fine," she stated simply. "Give yourself to Orochimaru tomorrow, if you want, but Sasuke-kun, please…" – she stood on the tips of her toes again, giving him a lingering kiss on the cheek – "…beforehand, take some time to think of every little thing in life that you'd be missing out on."

Every fiber of her being was screaming with the overwhelming, overpowering desire to know how he would take this, but Sakura forced herself to open her door and retreat into her room without looking back.

In one split second of weakness, in the instant before the door closed, she glanced over her shoulder for just a moment. Sasuke was staring at her in a way that she had never seen before, looking like a lost puppy.

The door slammed shut, and Sakura suddenly found that she had forgotten how to breathe. On the bed farthest away from the wall, Karin rolled her eyes and put her finger in the page of the thick paperback novel she had been reading. "Don't go back out there, Sakura," she whispered vehemently.

Sakura turned back toward the door, utterly shocked at the effect that she had apparently had on Sasuke. "But—"

"_Sakura_!"

Not wanting to face the wrath of her fellow kunoichi, Sakura turned back grudgingly, and Karin pointed at her bed with her customary bossiness. "Sit."

Sakura retreated into her less-than-satisfactory sleeping accommodation, flopping facedown into it and burying her head in the sheets. All the emotional exhaustion of the past day caught up to her in an instant, and she was reduced to pounding the bed with one fist, giving a long, frustrated sigh. "_Ugh._"

"So," Karin commented, drawing the word out longer than necessary. "By the look on his face, I would say that whatever you just pulled actually had some sort of impact on Sasucakes."

"…Don't call him that, Karin, it makes him homicidal. And," Sakura sighed again, rolling over to lie on her back and stare at the ceiling contemplatively. "I hope so."

"For your sake, I do too," Karin acknowledged, before returning to her book. "I just hope that Orochimaru-sama doesn't find out…"

"Come on," Sakura countered, turning her head to the side in order to give Karin a skeptical look. "What could _he _possibly do?"

For once, the expression in Karin's eyes was completely serious. "You don't want to know."

* * *

The stones were freezing against Kabuto's knees; the thick material of his dark pants proving no obstacle for the icy chill. He had his head lowered to the ground submissively, but his gaze was fixed on his master, and he hardly dared breathe.

It was only the years of servitude that enabled Kabuto to read the cold nuances of his master's expression as he turned away from the shimmery, unclear image of Sasuke standing outside of Sakura's room, staring blankly at the closed door. It seemed that Orochimaru was finally utilizing the tracker jutsu that he had executed on Sasuke four or five months ago, without the boy's knowledge, and Kabuto tried hard to suppress a wince. Things did not look good for—

Orochimaru's jaw clenched in silent frustration for a moment, and then he actually hissed like the snake he was, turning around and sending the bottle of sake on the nearby table to the floor with one aggressive swipe of his hand. The bottle collided with the floor, the glass shattering in a deafening shriek and the contents spilling everywhere. "That stupid, foolish, _asinine _girl," he whispered, a somewhat manic glint lighting his eyes, as his unnaturally long pink tongue whipped out to lick the corners of his mouth.

Kabuto flinched, as if the words physically hurt him. "Orochimaru-sama—"

Orochimaru turned on him, practically spitting venom. "Enough! _I _wanted to kill her from the beginning, but you – _you _insisted on saving her worthless, idiotic skin—"

"You asked for my honest opinion, Orochimaru-sama…"

Orochimaru waved his hand dismissively, before reaching up to rub his temples, obviously fighting to get his temper under control. "You obviously do not understand the problems that this causes me," he pronounced slowly, and as they always did when he was angry, the _s'_s came out as pronounced snake hisses. "It has taken so long for me to get Sasuke-kun where he is right now…in the palm of my hand. I could have had him a week from now, or a month at most. But that pathetic excuse for a kunoichi has sowed the seeds of doubt in his mind, and Sasuke-kun is a difficult one – I do not know if I can bring him to that point again—"

His forked tongue darted out again, flickering for a moment before disappearing again. "Especially not with _her _around," Orochimaru spat. "Poisoning his mind against me; trying to bend him to her own will and her foolish ideals…I did not go to such great lengths to bring Sasuke-kun to me and cultivate him to this level, only to have a stupid little girl unravel my plan."

Kabuto bowed even deeper, his mind working frantically. "Orochimaru-sama, I will speak to Sakura tonight. She is a capable, loyal kunoichi and an exceptionally skilled medic-nin; she is just strong-willed and idealistic, and I have no doubt that I will help her see reason—"

"No," Orochimaru interrupted cruelly, shaking his head from side to side, and a crafty look stole over his eyes. "That girl will be trouble for Sasuke-kun and I for as long as she is around."

Even though his expression remained unchanged, Kabuto felt his heart drop somewhere into the region of his stomach.

Orochimaru's lips thinned even further, into a tiny smirk, and he turned away. "Ah, Kabuto, my most loyal servant," he nearly purred, the tone a sharp contrast to what it was earlier.

Kabuto closed his eyes, unable to believe it had come to this. "…Yes, Orochimaru-sama," he replied, feeling each word condemn him further.

Orochimaru glanced his way, and a truly sinister smile touched the corners of his eyes. "Kill her," he ordered silkily.

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

Firstly, I think that I have decided to try to give this fic weekly updates. I apologize in advance if I might lapse, though – I just got my first college acceptance letter (!), and I still have a few more applications to complete in the next few weeks. It's really very busy on the home front.

Secondly, Itachi's in the next chapter, I absolutely promise. :) This story is just so AU that it needs a decent amount of development to keep it sounding cohesive. Also, thank you so much to the absolutely aaaaaaaamazing and very talented SwiftKick for her editing job! Those of you who haven't already should definitely check out her profile and give her stuff a read.

As always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated!


	3. Collision

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was considerate enough to review. :)_

_Chapter Three: Collision_

* * *

Kabuto was leaning against the counter on the far side of his laboratory, facing the stone staircase that led down into the basement. Even through the thick walls, he could hear the relentless howling of the wind – it was easy to tell that there was a blizzard raging outside.

Distantly, Kabuto observed that he had not been this deeply agitated in years. Despite his best efforts to control himself, his heart was beating faster than customary, and even though the Sound base was even more frigidly cold than usual, he could feel himself beginning to break out in a sweat. Behind his back, his fingers clutched one of the more vicious-looking surgical tools in a white-knuckled grip. It was a comfort thing, although it wasn't having much of an effect right now. He had to regain some semblance of normality, though, before—

He heard her coming before he saw her; Sakura always insisted on taking the stairs at an almost recklessly fast pace, and the thick heels of her knee-high boots echoed in the stale air. By the time Sakura finally reached the basement, she had to blink a few times in order to force her vision to adjust better. She didn't know why Kabuto-sensei always insisted on working in such poor lighting, and it was a secret fear of hers that if she continued doing so long enough, someday she would have to wear glasses as well. Not that she'd ever tell Karin that; the other girl would probably try and claw her eyes out while shrilly screaming that these weren't the Middle Ages and that glasses were _totally _fashionable…

It took a few moments for her eyes to become accustomed to the dim lighting in the basement. Only one of the two bulbs was on, and Sakura stared at the man who had been her teacher for the past four years inquisitively. She could sense nothing off with his chakra, but Kabuto looked somewhat paler than usual, and a bit…clammy. The light was glinting off his glasses so that she couldn't see the expression in his eyes, but as a whole, the entire thing was a little unnerving. Maybe he had found out about her sneaking out to the village earlier this morning and intended to chastise her, but something that trivial wouldn't justify the strangeness of his entire demeanor. Perhaps he was ill? Either way…

"Kabuto-sensei?" Sakura ventured uncertainly, taking a small step toward him. "Are you feeling all right?"

For a few moments, compounding her sense of something being slightly out of place, Kabuto stared at her as if he didn't know her. At last, he gave a long sigh, his eyes finally focusing on hers. "Sakura-chan," he began, sounding a little distracted. His hands were clasped behind his back, holding something she couldn't see. "What have I told you about stirring up trouble and interfering with affairs that are none of your business?"

Oh. So it _was _about the whole sneaking out thing.

Even though she didn't regret it in the least, Sakura bowed her head contritely. "I apologize, Kabuto-sensei," she murmured dutifully. "I should have asked your permission first, but I knew that you were busy with…Orochimaru-sama…and I did not want to disturb you. It was not a frivolous trip intended to defy you, but rather a valuable experience in which I was able to practically apply my skills as a medic-nin and test them in ways that I am not often given the opportunity to…" _Yeah. You know, I could learn how to actually _heal _someone, like I've always wanted to, instead of being forced to memorize new and gruesome ways to kill them…_

Kabuto's fingers clenched around the surgical tool. Kami. Lookat her, mumbling on obliviously, apologizing for something that really had no bearing on the larger scheme of things. Her long hair had come mostly free of the messy ponytail that usually constrained it, and it fell around her face. Despite the unnatural color – or perhaps because of it – it was beautiful; thick and shiny and so full of vitality that it was undoubtedly a perfect match for her. Sakura's cheeks were prettily flushed from the cold and the run downstairs, and he could see the blood pounding in the delicate arteries and veins of her slender neck.

It would be so easy. Sakura's hands were clasped behind her back, and if he moved fast enough, she wouldn't be able to offer any sort of resistance. One quick, chakra-loaded blow to the heart would bring a swift end to all the life contained within her petite frame. It was a fast way to go; rather humane, as well. Sakura wouldn't feel any pain. She wouldn't even realize that anything was amiss, if he did it with enough skill and agility.

He had done all this and more in the past, a thousand times over, for Orochimaru-sama. He had killed the elderly and the infirm; men, women, and children, civilians and shinobi alike, without a second thought. Anything for Orochimaru-sama.

Why should this be any different?

Except that it _was. _This time, it was his student. Bright, intelligent, lively, talented, _beautiful_ Sakura-chan, who had learned everything he had to teach her and still thirsted for more. Sakura-chan, who despite the things he had tried to teach her and warn her about, insisted on following a path not appropriate for a loyal Sound kunoichi.

He remembered one time, in particular. The first time he had told her to test out a disabling tendon-severing jutsu on one of the base's young, healthy prisoners, before killing him without laying a finger on his body. He had taken Sakura and the chained prisoner out to the forest, given her three minutes to finish, and then slunk back into the cover of the trees to watch. Sakura hadn't known he was there, and before his disbelieving eyes, she pulled the prisoner up to his feet and executed two strictly controlled Katon fire techniques in order to melt the chains away. In the next second, she had already shrugged off her jacket and thrown it around the young man's shoulders, emptied her pockets of all the money that had been there, hastily depositing it into his hands, and pushed the former prisoner off into the forest.

Kabuto hadn't said anything about her missing jacket when he had stepped out of the trees again. He hadn't acted in the least suspicious when Sakura had contritely told him that she had performed one wrong hand seal and accidentally incinerated the body instead. He had also never let her perform another execution alone.

Maybe that had been a mistake. Maybe he had let her get away with too much, and maybe it was his fault that Sakura had never been forced to give up her foolishly idealistic ways…that, by doing so, she had put herself in this situation, giving him no choice but to get rid of her.

Sakura finished her spiel, and looked up at him remorsefully. "I won't do it again, Kabuto-sensei," she offered quietly.

He knew she was lying – and, in that same second, he knew what he had to do.

Sakura never knew what hit her.

Two hand seals carefully executed behind his back, in conjunction with precise concentrations of chakra, and she collapsed forward, into his arms. The normally lively kunoichi was suddenly limp and boneless, so much so that she could be a corpse, and Kabuto caught her gently, stroking her hair with hands that trembled a little, as he struggled with the enormity of what he had done – or, rather, failed to do. She was completely defenseless now; totally unconscious. He should do it now, now that he didn't have to deal with the agony of looking into her vividly colored, expressive eyes…but he knew that he could never.

He had never disobeyed one of Orochimaru-sama's orders before, and his jaw clenched almost painfully, the beginnings of a tension headache pounding away at his temples. He would not kill Sakura, but he had to get rid of her somehow; so completely that she could never find her way back here. If Orochimaru-sama ever found out that he, Kabuto, had defied him so openly, his punishment would be swift and lethal.

Kabuto swallowed hard, feeling the abnormal tightness in his throat as he carefully picked Sakura up, slipping one arm underneath her knees and supporting the other at her back. Orochimaru-sama would be secluded in his rooms, or maybe even talking to the young Uchiha, so theoretically, he should be safe…

A pang of sharp apprehension struck the medic-nin to the core at the very thought of what Sasuke's reaction would be tomorrow morning, when he discovered his teammate was missing.

Determinedly shoving that idea out of his mind, Kabuto disappeared in a few elusive tendrils of black smoke, stretching the limits of his transportation jutsu as much as he could.

* * *

Despite the gravity of the situation, Kabuto spared the first few moments after he materialized again, carrying the still-unresponsive Sakura, to marvel at the power and extensive spread of his reach. They were in the middle of an incredibly dense forest that was largely carpeted in a thick layer of snow and ice, and it was nowhere that he could easily recognize. Specifically, nowhere remotely near either Sound or Konoha, which was really very good, theoretically, and he refused to allow himself to envision how frightened and bewildered Sakura would be, to awaken so far from home.

After a brief survey of the surrounding area, Kabuto ended up sliding his captive down to the base of an old oak tree. With her back settled against the bark and her legs stretched out in front of her, she looked like she could be sleeping.

He glanced at the sky. It was dark, but he could sense no predators in the immediate vicinity. Hopefully Sakura would wake before she could fall victim to one of the various ravages that this situation had the potential to offer.

Even though his better judgment protested it, Kabuto couldn't help but sink to his knees as well, settling himself beside the unconscious Sakura. Before he could think better of it, he was already reaching out toward her…gently stroking the contours of her pale cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, brushing the stray locks of vibrant hair out of her face and slowly, lingeringly tucking them behind her ear.

How cruel it was, that everything had turned out like this. Little Sakura-chan was the only one who truly understood him…appreciated him. He had taught her all she knew, and they could have explored so much more together.

His train of thought derailed, and detachedly, Kabuto observed that his thumb was dangerously close to her bottom lip, just barely skimming the sensitive skin there. It took a concerted display of self-control to finally pull his hand back, and he could feel a flush on his cheeks that had nothing to do with the cold. Trying to regain his dignity somewhat, he forced himself to straighten and turn his back to his student. His student, who despite her obvious dislike and distrust of Orochimaru-sama, had trusted _him _fully.

No. Those thoughts were unreasonable. He had just saved Sakura's life…and now, all he could do was hope that they never saw each other again, because if they did, it would be under highly undesirable circumstances for both of them.

Kabuto formed a few hand seals and disappeared without allowing himself to take one last glance back at her.

* * *

One and a half hours later, Sakura's eyes snapped wide open, and all of the breath left her body in a strangled, painful gasp. Her head was hanging at an odd angle, her neck so stiff that she couldn't even move, and the first sight that greeted her was that of her legs. Her blue-tinted, numb legs. As a matter of fact, her entire body was bent over itself in a strange, twisted sort of way.

The second thing she registered was that she was breathing hard, as if she and Karin had just finished a marathon sparring session. Every breath hurt like hell, like her heart was pumping twice as hard just to circulate blood to her body, and besides, the air she was gasping in as if her life depended on it was bitterly, savagely cold. Freezing. It hurt her nose and throat, and it felt like a million needle pinpricks on every inch of her exposed skin…

…Karin…had her bitch of a best friend stolen her blanket in the middle of the night again? She _really _had to see about finding herself a better roommate…

It took a few more moments, and a few more ragged breaths, for Sakura's brain to start working properly. It was still uncharacteristically sluggish and her thought process was more jarred than it had been in a long time, but…no. There was something wrong here. She wasn't in her room. This kind of fierce cold wasn't because of Karin stealing her blanket.

Inch by excruciatingly painful inch, Sakura lifted her neck and body straight again, staring around at her surroundings with wide, uncomprehending eyes. Nothing she saw was familiar. _Nothing. _She wasn't in her room, yeah – she wasn't in _any _room whatsoever.

Her neck snapped right and left so quickly that it hurt as Sakura assessed her surroundings, one of her hands drifting to the base of her neck as she fought the instinctive urge to panic. Her breath was shallow and quick, and she was hyper-aware of the sound her own heart made as it beat and the rush of blood through her veins – definitely warning signs of a panic attack, which she could not give in to now.

Forest. She was in some sort of a forest, but this definitely wasn't the forest behind the Sound base – this was larger and thicker than any forests she had ever traveled through, including the ones that separated Sound and Konoha. The foliage was intensely greener in the few sparse places where it was still present, and the snowfall here was ten times thicker than it had been in Sound just a few hours ago.

Forget just the base…this wasn't part of Sound at all.

Distantly, Sakura felt part of her brain shut down, and weakly, she brought her arms back to herself, hugging them close and feeling herself begin to tremble in a belated reaction to the cold and snow she had been sitting in for kami knew how long. She tried to think like a kunoichi; to keep her cool and consider this situation calmly and rationally, but she just couldn't. Aside from the tiny, two-mile trip from the Sound base to the border town she had visited, and the small excursions into the forest behind the base, she had never set foot out of that damn place. And she had literally _no idea _where she was, and how she had gotten here.

A wave of nausea brought on by sheer panic hit her, and Sakura gulped a deep, uneven breath of air, leaning forward unsteadily and drawing her knees to her chest, before resting her forehead on the top of them. The last thing she remembered, very vaguely, was lying on her bed, talking to Karin, before Jugo knocked on the door and told her that Kabuto wanted to see her…

Kabuto?

The thought sent a stab of pure confusion through Sakura, making her close her eyes and run her fingers through her hair, pulling so hard on it that it brought tears to her eyes. Why the hell would Kabuto-sensei attack her and dump her body in the middle of nowhere? Or was this some sick, twisted way of teaching her a lesson, and he would come back and fetch her later once he considered her to be truly repentant?

As soon as the thought occurred to her, the pink-haired kunoichi dismissed it, shaking her head hard in an attempt to clear it. That was totally, completely uncharacteristic of him. If Kabuto-sensei had really been _that _displeased (and it seemed like he wasn't at all), he would have sat down and gave her a mind-numbing lecture about the code of conduct expected by a Sound kunoichi, as he had done many times before.

One disjointed thought fluttered back into Sakura's head as she raked her fingernails against her scalp again. Her conversation with Karin, shortly before going down into the basement to meet Kabuto-sensei.

_I just hope Orochimaru-sama doesn't find out._

_What could he possibly do?_

_You don't want to know._

Sakura froze, raising her head from her hands and staring into the depths of the forest disbelievingly, as her numb fingers curled into fists. It hit her, belatedly, with a sense of unparalleled clarity. But how had he – how had that _snake _known what she and Sasuke had been talking about?

Despite her best efforts to restrain it, a tiny, choked whimper of utter despair and confusion worked its way free of Sakura's throat as she looked around again, feeling more lost and alone than she had in her entire life. If she had to guess, she would say that Orochimaru…well, everybody knew his preferred method of dealing with those who caused trouble for him. He would have asked Kabuto-sensei to kill her, and for some reason, he chose not to. She owed him her life.

It was too cold to sit on the ground for any longer; the chill was making her dangerously lethargic. Despite the stiffness in her muscles and the panicky tightness that had locked over her chest, Sakura struggled to her feet, using the tree's withered, rough bark as leverage, before folding her arms over her chest and scanning her surroundings again. But there was nothing, nothing _whatsoever_ to tell her where she was – in general, or in relation to the Sound base.

Sakura began to pace, and with each footstep, her boots sank a good four or five inches into the snow, crunching through the thick layers of ice. Normally pacing helped clear her thoughts a little, but today, it just complicated them more. She had to try and break out of the forest and find the nearest town, wherever that was. The thought suddenly occurred to her that if Kabuto had dumped her here, he probably wouldn't have chosen somewhere in particular – he would have likely just transported the maximum distance from the Sound base as humanly possible.

Sakura moaned in frustration, looking up at the sky and, thinking like a field shinobi, futilely attempting to get a geographical fix on her location using the stars. She couldn't see any; the night sky was completely black. The urge to collapse into a bank of snow, curl up into a ball, and make herself as small as possible was getting higher and higher by the second. She had never been out without Sasuke before. _He _would undoubtedly know what to do in this situation, but he was probably sound asleep in bed, with no idea of something being amiss…or he was in Orochimaru's little lair, sitting there calmly and listening to Orochimaru whisper poison into his ear, like always.

And now, she was completely powerless to stop it.

Sakura blinked harder than usual, trying to calm herself down, but the tears still began to spill out. Orochimaru had got what he wanted. She was maybe hundreds of miles away from the Sound base – from Sasuke, Karin, Suigetsu, Jugo; all that was familiar in the world – with no adequate protection from the elements, no supplies, no money; nothing except the clothes on her back. She was too powerless to do anything, and as much help to Sasuke now as she would be dead—

Sakura's left eye twitched of its own volition, and her vision spun and inverted for a moment, so that it felt like she was looking at herself from a distance. It was a pathetic sight, really. One petite, pink-haired, half-frozen teenager, crying like a miserable little child as she fought her way through the drifts of snow while walking aimlessly through the desolate, skeletal forest.

_Snap out of it, _she heard a distant voice order herself. It was loud and aggressive, and sounded like a mixture between the increasingly dormant Inner Sakura, along with Karin, and Ino.

_Ino._ Any thoughts of her old friends from Konoha usually triggered a pang of severe homesickness and sorrow, but tonight, considering the circumstances, it was nearly crippling. Sakura wondered what her first best friend would look like now; four years later. Ino had always been so confident and capable, excelling as a kunoichi from the very beginning. What would she do, if she was in this situation?

…Maybe even more accurately, what would Kakashi-sensei have told her, Sakura, to do, if she had become separated from her little genin team of Sasuke and Naruto while they were out on a mission?

Come up with a reasonable, logical plan of action, of course. Sakura's mind whirred into action, and she bit her lip thoughtfully. The forest couldn't last forever. It had to break, and once it thinned out a little, she would be able to sense chakra presences or one of the other signals indicating the presence of a nearby town.

Her newfound concentration was derailed by a sudden, sharp pain in her stomach, and Sakura winced, reaching to it instinctively. _Kami, _it was cold. She had thrown off her winter jacket and scarf when she had gotten back to the room, and of course she hadn't picked them up again for what she thought was a simple trip to the basement. It felt like so long ago that she had bought the small bowl of ramen at the border town, and her stomach was as empty as could be.

It was possible to live four to six weeks without food; hopefully it wouldn't come to that. Sakura glanced down at her body apprehensively. Even a few days' worth of starvation would lead to dangerous amounts of lethargy, physical weakness, excessive mental confusion and disorientation, poor judgment, a weakened immune system, and an inability to maintain body temperature, which, in this weather, would certainly lead to hypothermia. All of those symptoms spelled certain disaster for any human in this situation, but for a shinobi, it was definitely worse. Her chakra levels would suffer dramatically, and that was a larger safety hazard than anything else. Without her chakra and medical ninjutsu, she was, in essence, a normal, utterly defenseless teenage girl…

The sobering diagnosis caused Sakura to quicken her step, scanning her surroundings anxiously. No matter where she was, there was always the chance of encountering missing-nin or even rogue mercenaries. Her first order of business was to break out of the forest. Towns would offer their own sorts of risks, but at least she would find some opportunities there. Besides, once she found a town, she could find out where she was, and then maybe try to return to Sound. But before she could even think about that, first there was the issue of food. Stealing from any marketplaces would be extremely risky, not to mention unethical and something she wouldn't resort to unless it was a matter of life or death. The only really viable options were to ask around and offer her services as a hunter-nin to any interested parties, or to work as a healer in order to get a small amount of money.

Sakura closed her eyes, fighting the sudden wave of exhaustion that washed over her. The hunger had heightened into a persistent ache, and even though it was unhygienic, on impulse, she bent and scooped a handful of snow into her mouth. It melted into something so icily numbing that it dulled the hunger temporarily, and she rubbed her hands over her upper arms, shivering as the snow began to fall again.

* * *

_Sound_

* * *

Three hundred and fifty miles away, Sasuke Uchiha's eyes snapped wide open.

It took him a moment to realize, a little confusedly, that he was breathing much harder than usual, and another moment to question what had triggered his sudden wakefulness.

The pounding on the solid, heavy wooden door to the room that he shared with Suigetsu and Jugo continued, and he blinked, running one hand through his hair, irritated, as he began to sit up. "Jugo," he said hoarsely, because the other boy slept closest to the door, but Suigetsu had already pulled himself out of bed and was halfway to the door, while Jugo was only waking up. "I'll get it," Suigetsu said over his shoulder, and despite his usual flippant tone, Sasuke could see the worry in his violet eyes. "It's Karin's chakra signature—"

He pulled the door open, and the red-haired girl practically fell over the threshold to the room, ignoring Suigetsu's attempt to reach out and steady her. Sasuke felt his shoulders tense up as he watched Karin's eyes scan every inch of the room – finally, they focused on him, and the kunoichi actually stood on the tips of her toes, as if attempting to see if somebody was hiding behind his back.

"She's not here?" Karin blurted, spinning around and facing Suigetsu agitatedly, and Sasuke noticed that her hair was standing on end more than usual, as if she had run her fingers through it while worried.

Suigetsu narrowed his eyes and shook his head guardedly. "Sakura? Why would she be here?"

"I haven't seen Sakura-chan since I told her that Kabuto wanted to see her, down in the lab," Jugo echoed, stifling a yawn.

Supposedly it was medically impossible, but Sasuke felt his heart skip a beat as he shook his head slowly in response to Karin's questioning glare. "Neither have I…"

For a few tense moments, the four teenagers stared at each other, the same question written on all of their faces. Finally, Jugo sighed deeply, looking over at Sasuke; he was the only one brave enough to voice what they had all been thinking. "…Was she in any danger?"

Sasuke glanced out of the window at the forest behind the Sound base, partly to get away from the querulous glances of the other four. He could see his reflection in the polished glass – his skin was pale and ashen, almost gray, and his Sharingan had activated of its own accord.

It was his fault. Not hers, for trying to dissuade him of it, but _his_, for driving her to it and putting her in danger in the first place. He should have known that Orochimaru would have some kind of tracking jutsu put on him to spy or something of the like, but oh, kami, Sakura…

He had to hold it together. Part of him was more agitated than he had been in years, because Sakura belonged to _him_, and therefore it was his job to protect her, but he couldn't fall apart in front of the others. They were looking toward him for leadership and cues as to how to proceed, so he had to set the tone for what they would do about the situation that they had found themselves in.

Sasuke took a deep, steadying breath, turning back at his teammates and staring at them evenly. "He wouldn't have killed her himself," he said bluntly, ignoring how Karin and Suigetsu's eyes widened and Jugo's mouth fell open with shock. "He doesn't like getting his hands dirty. He would have made Kabuto do it—"

Suigetsu snorted disparagingly, kicking at the floor. "That pansy-ass wouldn't have done it. I've seen how he looks at Sakura when he thinks nobody else is watching, and I can bet you a million ryou that he would have found some way to get her out of here without killing her. If that makes any sense."

Sasuke repressed the sudden and rather uncharacteristic urge to growl at the mental image that Suigetsu's words triggered.

"So?" Karin interrupted his thoughts, placing her hands on her hips combatively. "What are we going to _do_?"

Again, the three of them looked to him for guidance, and Sasuke scowled, leaning against the wall and surveying them appraisingly. He had always been good at thinking on his feet, and the dark plan that was formulating in his head at the moment seemed to be rather appropriate for the circumstances, in more ways than one.

He closed his eyes momentarily, trying to come to terms with the impact and implications of what he was going to say. About the effect that it would have on him…on his search for Itachi…on how far he was willing to go regarding his brother…

Maybe Sakura had been right. Maybe he was better off doing it on his own. And if it wasn't too late – and it _couldn't _be too late…

Sasuke opened his eyes again, staring at them with the expression of chilling, ruthless determination that the other three – and Sakura – were all too familiar with. "This is what we're going to do…"

* * *

_Two Weeks Later_

* * *

"Demonstrate."

Sakura bowed her head obediently, trying her best to mask the desperation that threatened to show on her face. She hadn't had anything to eat in the past two weeks, save for a shriveled green apple on the first day, a few burnt bread crusts, and periodic cups of water with crushed mint leaves in them. Her chakra was a million times weaker than usual and wavering slightly, just when she needed it most.

She steeled herself again, forcing herself to regain the concentration she had lost while enjoying the warmth of the small study. Sakura's heart gave a painful twinge as she looked at the lame, brightly-colored parakeet in the golden cage across the room. It had the tiniest body, bright green plumage, and brown, intelligent eyes, and as if it could sense her eyes watching it, it chirped a few times; sweet, cascading notes. When she had been little, she had begged her mother for a pet bird.

The man behind her banged his fist on his heavy wooden desk suddenly, and the sound made Sakura jump. "What are you waiting for, girl?" he barked. "I asked you to demonstrate!"

_Oh, kami. _Sakura forced herself to think of the food – _actual _food, which she hadn't had since the day that Kabuto had left her in the forest, two weeks ago – that she could get if she earned the trust of this contractor and was hired as his hunter-nin for the brief assignment. Hot miso soup, sushi or sashimi, shrimp tempura, deep fried vegetables, rice and umeboshi…with maybe even enough cash left over to buy herself a jacket, granting her some protection from the bitter cold.

The thought gave her the necessary motivation, and with a silent, heartfelt apology, she executed the requisite several hand seals – but almost at that exact second, she felt her face fall. The bird, instead of dropping dead immediately, wobbled around its perch briefly, before undergoing a violent spasm, flapping its wings erratically and making strangled cawing sounds for several moments before it finally toppled to the base of the cage, dead.

Sakura's heart clenched so painfully that she felt dizzy. She couldn't look at it anymore, and she turned back to the contractor, watching him expectantly. He was a retired Sand shinobi turned businessman, who needed the CEO of a rival company eliminated swiftly and discreetly. It was an unsavory job, but it would pay well, and right now, that was all that she needed. "Sanekori-san?" she prompted meekly, already bracing herself for defeat. She should have known. In perfect health, she could have killed the poor bird in less than a second. Now…not a chance.

The man made a show of shuffling the paperwork on his desk. "You don't have what I'm looking for, kid," he said gruffly. "I have a guy who killed the other bird in one second, and a lot more inconspicuously to boot. Get out of here and come back when you're on the same level with the men on this field."

Under normal circumstances, she would have bristled at the insult, but the disappointment was too sharp to bear. Without another word, Sakura excused herself from the study, bowing her head against the fierce wind as she stepped back out into the snowy evening. She had found herself in the Land of Stone – about as far away from Sound as could be, according to a local bartender. And it had been ages since she had eaten anything solid. For the entirety of today and even a few days before that, it had only been boiled water with mint leaves.

The kunoichi winced against the cold, lifting one hand up to her bruised cheek. She caught a glimpse of it as she passed a shop window – it had turned a spectacular shade of purple, clashing horribly with her hair. Two days ago, she had reached her absolute limit, and tried stealing some food from a local market, under the cover of genjutsu. Before she had cleared the area, her chakra had drained itself and the genjutsu had given out, leaving her caught red-handed in front of the fish vendor. The shock of her concealment genjutsu fading had slowed her down for half a second, enough time for the fish vendor to snatch the mackerel out of her hands and land a vicious backhand to her face.

Stealing was punishable by death in the Land of Stone, so it was lucky she had thrown a few civilians into the path of the irate fish vendor and then gotten the hell out of there as fast as possible. She had tried to cast another genjutsu several times after that, but her chakra reserves were so pathetically depleted that it just wasn't possible.

Sakura crossed her arms hard over her stomach as she passed a few different restaurants, all of which had just opened for the night. The mouthwatering scent of curry rice, onigiri, and seasoned beef just made her melt on the inside, and her knees actually buckled beneath her for a fraction of a second before she forced herself to hurry on, refusing to even look in their direction. Her head was pounding relentlessly, and Sakura became faintly aware that she wasn't exactly walking in a straight line. Actually, it was more of a drunken stagger, judging by the questioning, condescending glances that some of the other townspeople – comfortably dressed in long pants, heavy woolen jackets, thick scarves, and gloves – sent her way.

Stopping outside the high-end eateries was nothing less than masochism, so she hurried along until she left the more affluent part of the district. These streets were less well lit and full of smaller bars and taverns, and Sakura collapsed on the curb of a sidewalk underneath a weeping willow tree. Her breath was coming in quick, shallow pants, and she buried her head in her hands. She was shivering uncontrollably. She couldn't do it anymore; she was just so tired that she felt on the verge of passing out. The smell of food seemed to pervade the very air around her, and it made every fiber of Sakura's body ache from the inside out. She couldn't stay sitting on the side of the road forever, but she couldn't even summon the energy to stand up or even think about moving.

The wind hurt the bruise on her face so much that the skin felt raw and on the verge of bleeding, and it took more effort than it ever had, but Sakura finally summoned a tiny, pitiful amount of healing chakra to her hand and stroked it along the length of her cheek. It took several minutes, but she finally felt the skin there return to its usual healthy, unbroken state.

She tried to look at her hand, but her eyes couldn't seem to focus. The small part of Sakura's brain that was still functioning properly told her that this was a warning sign – she had seen prisoners in Orochimaru's base suffer from stage one hypothermia before – and she tried her best to remember the test that Kabuto had taught her.

She brought her right hand up to her face – it was the only way for her to even see it properly and keep her vision from swimming that badly – and tried to touch her pinky finger to her thumb. The first two times, she couldn't even move her smallest finger. The second two, she missed her thumb entirely.

Sakura felt her hands drop into her lap numbly, and even though she knotted them together, they wouldn't stop trembling. Stage one hypothermia, combined with all the symptoms of acute starvation. This was dangerous; just the kind of thing she had been trying to avoid for so long. Clinically, almost coldly, Sakura realized that if she didn't do anything – namely, warm up and eat as soon as possible – she would die. Maybe by the next night. This was rock bottom, like she had never experienced before.

She felt sick and weak and tired, and, well – it would be easy to die right here, with the soft snowflakes cascading down around her.

But she couldn't. No. She had to find her way back to Sound; to Sasuke, before Orochimaru could fully sink his poisonous fangs into him and make the damage that had already been done absolutely irreversible. That was the purpose she had given herself for the past four years, and she would be damned if she died before fulfilling it.

It was easily the most difficult thing Sakura had done lately, but she pulled herself to her feet, wrapped her arms around herself, and stumbled across the street, into the first bar she could find. She had to warm up first, and once that had been accomplished, she _had _to get something substantial to eat…regardless of what measures she would have to take to do so.

The bar was small and dismal; almost deserted, but it was dark, smoky, and it warmed her to the bone. Quickly, Sakura found a small booth in the back, and slunk into it hastily, eager to avoid notice by any of the other patrons. The fake leather was comfortable, and she drew her knees to her chest and hugged them tight, breathing deeply as she felt the minutes tick by slowly, and her body becoming acclimatized to the warmth. The shivering had diminished, her breathing had returned to normal, her vision had cleared, and she was able to move her fingers properly again.

Now, if only she could stay here for the rest of the night, or charm somebody into buying her a bowl of hot soba noodles…

The warmth lulled her into a sleepy state, and the heavy, overpowering scent of smoke and food was enough to lure her into a deceptive state of satiation. Sakura propped her chin on her knees and lazily watched the people that strolled up to the bar to purchase their food, her eyelids falling ever lower. It was mind-numbing enough to help her catch maybe a couple hours of sleep before things got too busy and loud for her to lurk in the shadows, or the bartender kicked her out for not buying anything.

There was a blonde man who walked away from the bar with four full bottles of sake. A brunette who ordered the largest platter of sushi she had ever seen. A middle-aged, redheaded woman who flirted outrageously with the bartender before buying a large bowl of ramen. Perversely enough, that reminded her of Naruto.

And then she saw Sasuke out of the corner of her eye, carefully balancing a plate of onigiri in one hand and a tall, chilled glass of water in the other, while making his way to another table in the back.

Sakura's eyes snapped fully open, and she jerked into a proper sitting position so convulsively that she banged her knees on the table, hard. In the time that it had taken the image to register, he had disappeared from sight, and she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, craning her neck and pulling herself half out of the booth, looking around the bar desperately. _Sasuke. _Where _was _he?

…Sitting exactly across the bar from her, staring blankly at the other side of the empty booth.

Except—

It wasn't Sasuke.

Sakura felt her fingers' grip on the fake leather of her booth loosen, and her breath caught in her throat as she collapsed back into the booth, backing herself into the very corner of it, sinking down, and trying to make herself as invisible as possible. In about six seconds flat, she had gone from sleepy and relaxed to panicked. Utterly, thoroughly panicked, in a way even more nerve-wracking and intense than she had felt two weeks ago, when she had awoken to find herself in the forest.

Itachi. She hadn't recognized him at first, not without the Akatsuki cloak. He was dressed in the same kind of clothes that Sasuke wore when relaxing – dark pants and a close-fitting, long-sleeved gray shirt. His partner Kisame didn't appear to be present, but…

Sakura became vaguely aware that she was biting the inside of her cheek hard, and that her fingernails were gouging into her palms. She tried futilely to calm her breathing, but it was no use. Despite her brave plan of two weeks ago, about leaving the Sound base and hunting down Itachi so that Sasuke wouldn't have to, right now, she was so terrified that she was actually nauseous. For the kami's sake, Itachi was just slowly and decorously eating his onigiri less than ten feet away from her, and she was just about ready to have a nervous breakdown. She knew what he had done. She knew what he was capable of. She knew what he _deserved_. But most infuriating of all, she couldn't do anything now – two weeks ago, she could have killed Itachi a hundred different ways, but _now_, she would barely even have enough strength to walk across the bar to confront him.

She needed Sasuke. Or, more accurately, Sasuke needed to be here to get rid of Itachi, but—

He couldn't be here, of course.

Sakura propped her elbows on the table and set her head in her hands, directing another paranoid glance at Itachi through the moderate crowd that separated them. Still eating, apparently peacefully. She scoffed at her fears; it was unlikely that he would suddenly get up and go on a mass killing spree by executing everybody in the bar, but…

Oh, kami, fate was cruel. Sasuke would undoubtedly kill to be in her position right now; he could probably think of ten different ways to kill Itachi from right across the bar, or he would just take advantage of the element of surprise to charge over there and stab his brother through the heart with a steak knife. And yet, it was _her _who, despite all odds, had ended up here.

…Here, for this limited window of time. With an opportunity that her teammate would love to have, but unfortunately, couldn't. Therefore, there was only one thing that she, in good conscience, could do – she had to do what Sasuke couldn't.

Itachi was alone right now, which made him, to some extent, more vulnerable than he would be normally. Sakura's mind kicked into the kind of overdrive which it hadn't in a long time, as she kept a discreet eye on him. Her options were limited. She was still hungry and exhausted enough for a long-range heart-stopping jutsu to be out of the question – besides, there were at least four people occupying the tables between her and Itachi, and even though it was something that Sasuke wouldn't mind doing, she refused to let innocent civilians get caught in the middle of something like this. That excluded the possibility of getting rid of Itachi by using any medical ninjutsu whatsoever, at least at this moment in time.

No. If she was going to get involved in this, her plan had to involve a lot more finesse. She knew that she was capable of getting rid of Itachi if she managed to restore her energy, but that was a big _if. _There was always a chance that she couldn't be the one to do it, at least not right now…maybe she would have to find a way to tail him or even hold on to him until she could get in touch with Sasuke, somehow. Sakura sighed, raking her fingers through her hair exasperatedly. Her body had been under enough stress before the added element of this unexpected situation, and she could barely think straight. She was smart, but in a different way than Sasuke, Suigetsu, and Karin, who were all a lot more adept at thinking on their feet. She had one chance to make it or break it, and she didn't even have the luxury of having a few hours to come up with a strong, comprehensive plan.

Her stomach took the opportunity to clench up in another violent hunger spasm, and the kunoichi made a small, strangled noise in the back of her throat as she locked one arm around her middle, directing another cautious glance at Itachi. It looked like he was about halfway done with his food…so if she was going to do something, she had to move now.

There were enough people separating them that Sakura felt comfortable surveying him for a few moments longer than usual. He didn't appear to be armed, but then again, she knew that he could kill her several different ways with his bare hands…or his bloodline limit. At second glance, she couldn't understand how she had confused Itachi for Sasuke – the two definitely had marked differences in their facial appearance, not to mention that Itachi's hair was much longer; falling to the middle of his back and held in a simple ponytail at the base of his neck. His features were sharper, more angular and defined, and he was much taller and more leanly muscled as well. All in all, the very sight of him sent shivers down Sakura's spine. It wasn't because of how attractive he was, or how she had basically feared the very thought of him since she had been ten years old. It was just that…from here, Itachi looked perfectly unassuming, even peaceful.

It turned her stomach, and she quickly redirected her thoughts to something, anything, else. She was starting to get dizzy again from hunger, and as she watched Itachi take another bite of the salted salmon that had apparently been inside his onigiri, Sakura felt her insides tremble. She was out of the cold, but for how long? Her chakra was dangerously low, and she couldn't face Itachi Uchiha in such physically weakened condition. That would be suicide.

Her fatigued, aching eyes swept him again, and for the first time, Sakura noticed the fabric that his shirt was made of. It was fine, thick gray wool. Expensive, to say the least – she glanced down ruefully at the red cotton that made up her sleeveless red zippered vest – and definitely hard to come by. If she had to guess, she would say that Itachi was in possession of a _lot _more currency than the average missing-nin, who lived from one meal to another, if they were lucky.

She watched the bartender hand off another plate of onigiri with umeboshi to a team of what appeared to be Stone shinobi, and Sakura swallowed, almost unconsciously moistening her dry lips as the team walked past her booth; the scent of the pickled ume fruit hanging in the air behind them and making her nearly dissolve with need.

Sakura sunk down a little further in the booth, shooting another reflexive glance over at Itachi as a new plan began to take root in her head. It wasn't pretty. As a matter of fact, it made her a little sick and if she didn't play her cards right, it could end up as a torturous death sentence…but it was still better than a slow, painful death by starvation.

When Itachi returned to his table after getting a cup of jasmine tea from the bartender, he hardly batted an eyelid upon finding the pink-haired girl sitting across from him.

His apparent nonchalance sent yet another shiver down Sakura's spine as he calmly, deliberately slid into the booth as well, seating himself across from her. No matter how _unassuming _and _peaceful _he had looked from across the bar, suddenly, the tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife. This close, Itachi's very aura was dark and implicitly menacing; enough to make her want to be as far away from him as possible.

Every single one of her nerves was ferociously on edge in a way that she had never experienced before, and she had knotted her hands together underneath the table, pressing them between her knees, and they still wouldn't stop shaking. Despite that, the pink-haired kunoichi had to fight to keep her fear from showing on her face – she couldn't come into this looking like a prospective victim. Sakura lifted her head up high and met Itachi's searching gaze evenly. This was her chance to help Sasuke-kun, to prove herself as a kunoichi…to save her own life. It had to work.

Itachi's eyes swept over her coolly, and Sakura marveled at how he could look so very…disinterested, but at long last, he inclined his head a fraction of an inch. "Hello, Sakura," he said mildly, and just like that, her entire silly, trivial _plan _flew out the window.

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

As always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :)


	4. Compromising

_Thank you so much to everybody who was sweet enough to review. :) _

_Chapter Four: Compromising_

* * *

In the next instant, the stray pair of chopsticks that Sakura had picked up on the way over clattered to the table. She had warmed up a while ago, but she suddenly found that she had lost all feeling in her fingers. As a matter of fact, she was fairly sure that she had just gone completely petrified, from head to toe.

Itachi was still staring at her, with absolutely no emotion visible in his charcoal-gray eyes – the exact same color and shape as Sasuke's, which she refused to allow herself to think about – and despite her best efforts to be brave, Sakura finally became aware that she was subconsciously pressing herself back against the booth, shrinking as far away from him as possible. Had she been completely insane, wanting to come over here?

"What?" the pink-haired kunoichi finally managed, picking up her chopsticks again and squeezing them in a white-knuckled grip. Her voice was too hoarse and strangled for her liking, but Sakura could feel the blood pounding in her ears, too dizzyingly loud to be healthy: her weakened body couldn't handle this kind of stress as well as she could otherwise.

Itachi lifted an eyebrow dispassionately, obviously unaffected by the show of emotion, as he toyed with a stray piece of salted salmon remaining on his plate. "Sasuke is my younger brother," he said, at length. "I am sure you understand my desire to keep tabs on him."

His voice was so damn noncommittal, so even and unemotional, so _robotic, _that suddenly Sakura felt her breathing becoming more than a little ragged, her fingers clenching around the edge of the table. Belatedly, she realized that she was a hairsbreadth away from throwing herself at him and locking her hands around his throat and squeezing every last cubic inch of air out…until her body had met with the obstacle of the table. Her ribs ached from where she had just slammed against it.

Something unreadable flickered in Itachi's eyes, telling her that he was very well aware of the emotions that were probably written all over her face right now. That wouldn't do. The plan would never work if he thought she was an unstable wild card who was just waiting for the moment that he let his guard down.

It took a few painfully deep breaths and a concentrated effort for Sakura to relax, delicately removing her fingers from their death grip around the table and folding them demurely in front of her. "Yes, very understandable," she murmured, forcing the words to come out coherently.

For a few long moments, they both sized each other up, and at last, for the briefest of moments, Itachi couldn't help how his lips thinned into a shadow of a smirk. It was gone in the next second, replaced by the customary emotionless façade, but…really, he could count the amount of fortunate happenings in his life with one hand, if that. It seemed as if this chance encounter could certainly serve to his advantage in a way that was nearly incomprehensible in its magnitude. He could already foresee the angle that Sakura was going to play, and he owed it to her to make it as easy as possible.

…Besides, Itachi knew that the barely restrained look of desperate longing that was currently lingering in Sakura's eyes as she watched him nudge his remaining onigiri around his plate was impossible to fake. It was almost pitiful; he supposed that she was a pretty girl, but right now, she was looking startlingly reminiscent of a starved dog.

Every single one of his instincts were screaming at him to slide the plate over to her, or better yet, to walk up to the bar and order Sakura a large plate of everything on the menu, but that would hardly be the proper course of action. Itachi made himself set the chopsticks aside, returning to observing his unlikely dining partner, who was staring at him apprehensively. This was truly strange – he suspected that Sasuke was using Sakura to lure him into some sort of trap (a viable idea, but he found it somewhat disturbing to believe that Sasuke would have actually starved Sakura into this pathetic state in order to make her appear more pitiable and vulnerable), but he could not sense even a fragment of Sasuke's chakra signature – not in the bar, or even in the entire town. Itachi had a decent amount of respect for his younger brother's abilities, but even he had to admit that that kind of advanced chakra-concealment technique was still far beyond Sasuke's capabilities.

"Sakura," Itachi commented, trying his best to ascertain the situation. "What brings you so far away from Sound?"

There was nothing she could lose by telling the truth, but even the idea made her wince a little. It was probably unreasonable on her part, but it felt like telling Itachi what had really happened made her even more vulnerable to him in some way.

Inner Sakura smirked wryly. _Look at you, Sakura, _she commented. _Your chakra is almost totally depleted, and you're slowly wasting away from starvation. You _are _vulnerable, in pretty much every way._

"Long story short," Sakura said, making herself sound as effortlessly calm as possible…which was rather hard to do, what with Itachi staring her down like that. She didn't think that he was trying to be intimidating, but his reputation was enough to make her feel stiff with unease. "I didn't necessarily agree with the…agreement that Sasuke was willing to make with the Otokage…Orochimaru, so I tried talking him out of it. Orochimaru didn't like that, so he wanted to get rid of me – but his personal medic-nin, who's been training me for the past four years, spared my life by knocking me unconscious and dumping me so far away from Sound that I couldn't possibly find my way back."

Something in her little speech sent distinct alarm bells off in his head, and Itachi felt his shoulders tense up. Not only had his original estimation of the situation been completely wrong, which did not happen often, but…_agreement? _What agreement had Sasuke made with Orochimaru? He had been disgusted and disappointed that his younger brother had chosen to abandon Konoha and seek the training of Orochimaru, that abomination – but he had been under the impression that Sasuke would simply learn from him and then leave when he had learned all he could learn, not make any sort of _agreement _with him. Something like that would certainly be on an equal magnitude of selling one's soul, and considering his own experiences with Orochimaru, Itachi didn't even want to think about the ideas that monstrosity was feeding to Sasuke…

"What agreement?"

The words were out of his mouth before he could think any better of it, and to his dismay, as soon as he registered the look of surprise on Sakura's face, Itachi realized that they were too sharp and far too concerned, and she tilted her head a little to the side, obviously confused. The idea defied logic in every single way, but the way Itachi had said those two words – he actually sounded almost like…he was worried. For whatever reasons, it was obvious that he cared.

Masking her nerves, Sakura tried her best to summon her best Karin impersonation, in the form of a seemingly casual flick of her long pink hair over her shoulder. The same gesture usually caused Suigetsu to lose his train of thought and stare at her red-haired best friend adoringly for a few moments before he came back to his senses, and it had even worked a little when Sakura had tried it on Sasuke once, but Itachi didn't seem to react much – not even when she subtly slid her hands off the table, locking them behind her back and arching her chest towards him just a little. "How interested are you?" she asked coolly.

Her hands were clammy with cold sweat, and Sakura could only hope that she wasn't blushing – aside from her and Karin's usual attempts at flirting with Sasuke and Suigetsu, respectively, they had never undergone any of the special kunoichi training that kunoichi in other shinobi villages had. She had no idea what she was doing, and the fact that she was playing _this _game with _this _particular person made her feel more than a little ill.

This time, Itachi's eyes actually flickered over her inch by inch, slowly and thoroughly taking in her artfully tousled mane and…everything else. "Interested enough," he returned quietly.

Sakura fought the urge to squirm and cross her arms over her chest – she didn't know where to go from here. "Alright," she replied lamely.

The silence stretched between them, long and awkward, for a few moments. "I have to admit," Itachi said, after a little while, and the softly spoken words broke some of the tension that had fallen over them during the previous exchange. He wasn't looking at her; instead toying with his onigiri, and Sakura couldn't keep from staring at it. He was deliberately taunting her with it, and her throat tightened at the realization that he probably would make her say it out loud, even though she didn't think she could. "Even considering the strenuous circumstances, I fail to understand how you could have allowed yourself to fall into this position. You trained as a medic-nin specializing in combat techniques; there should be a large market of private contractors who require a hunter with your specialized skills. If not that, you could have made a passable amount of money offering your services as a healer."

Sakura made herself look away from the rice and salmon, redirecting her gaze to some point above Itachi's left shoulder. "The average contractor laughs at the idea of hiring a fifteen-year-old girl," she said bluntly. Admitting it hurt her pride, but she didn't want him to think that she had just aimlessly and helplessly drifted around for the past two weeks, letting herself languish and starve to death. "That happened a few times. The next two times, I refused to demonstrate my techniques on a live human specimen in order to prove myself, which didn't go over well. The next three contractors just slammed the door on my face without saying a word. The one I just tried – well, my technique didn't work properly. My chakra's almost gone; there's not enough to cast a simple genjutsu, let alone kill somebody with a medical technique." She took a deep breath, quickly wondering how helpless and not-threatening she could make herself look while still being believable.

The next memories made her wince a little, though, and abandoning the idea of being seductive; too tired to even pretend anymore, Sakura propped her elbows up on the table and rested her head in her hands wearily. "…And, to be honest, I couldn't bring myself to ask the seventeen-year-old single mother who had been in labor for two days to pay me for delivering her baby. Or to ask the guy who had gotten almost beaten to death for being open about his sexuality to give me money for fixing up his injuries."

Itachi hadn't expecting that, and he blinked. "…Noble," he allowed, finally setting his chopsticks aside and slowly lowering his hands so that they lay flat on the table. "But foolish."

(It was something he would do if in the situation, and he remembered telling his father so, years ago, during a hypothetical conversation that Shisui had sparked. His father had given him a cold, withering look, and told him the same thing that he had just told Sakura.)

"Maybe." Sakura let her gaze drift down to the small, uncommonly narrow table. Despite the conversation, she felt nearly nauseated with nerves. She didn't want to be the one to make the first move, but regardless of their little exchange earlier, she couldn't imagine any relative of Sasuke's propositioning a random girl at a bar. She hadn't known any Uchiha besides Sasuke, but she could imagine that they would only acquiesce to it if somebody really threw herself at them.

Itachi nearly jumped when the girl across from him reached down slowly, deliberately intertwining their fingers together and gently pulling his hand toward her. Sakura seemed to be intently avoiding his gaze, and for all that her fingers were deathly, unhealthily cold, even in the dim light, he could see the flush on her cheeks. She was obviously painfully uncomfortable, and even though he forced his expression to remain neutral, Itachi was equally ill at ease. It had been years since he had touched or been touched like this. And even though he expected her to initiate contact at some point, it still came as a shock.

Sakura's mind closed away from what was happening; it was the only way to deal with the emotions she felt inside – crushing desperation and intense shame, mingled with almost crippling fear at the situation she was putting herself into. She slid her fingers down to Itachi's wrist, looking down at the floor as she gently guided his slender, long-fingered hand to her face, forcing a slow caress of the contours of her left cheekbone. He didn't move to pull away – as a matter of fact, he curved his palm to fit to her face better – and she pulled it a little lower, closing her eyes. The slight contact felt electric, but not in a completely pleasant way. Itachi's hand was warm; his fingers and palm calloused as they trailed down the side of her neck, finally stopping at the ridge of her collarbone.

Sakura knew that she should probably continue it a little further if she wanted to really sell it, but she felt dizzy and sick, inside and out. When she opened her eyes, Itachi still looked completely unaffected by what had just happened, but he didn't make a move to pull the tips of his fingers away from her collarbone, where she was still limply holding his wrist.

"You could say that I'm a little desperate," Sakura whispered, rubbing her thumb across the sensitive skin at the inside of his wrist. Even she knew that eye contact was essential here, but it was so nerve-wracking that it almost hurt.

Itachi inclined his head a fraction of an inch, and again, she couldn't read the emotion in his eyes. "Your conditions?" he inquired detachedly.

_Don't kill me when you get bored. Don't brutally torture me to get yourself off. _

"Food," Sakura replied, after a moment. "And…a warm place to sleep. In exchange for…" – she hesitated, unsure of how much to specify – "…well, since your partner seems to be gone, my help in whatever assignment you're undertaking, and my services as a medic-nin…"

_Oh, screw eye contact. _For the second time that night, she couldn't bring herself to look at him anymore, and Sakura blinked down at the table. "And anything and everything else you want," she finished, so quietly that she could barely hear herself.

Her rational sense and her logic, and the plan that she had formed earlier – well, they all told Sakura that each one of the aforementioned conditions, if she played her cards right, would soon allow her to ascertain Itachi's vulnerabilities and take advantage of each and every one of them. That didn't change the fact that what she had just said made her feel so dirty that a hundred showers couldn't wash it away.

Sakura released Itachi's hand, pulling her arms back to herself and crossing them, looking down at the floor, and for a few moments, the elder Uchiha was lost as to what to do. Needless to say, he had never engaged in any sort of transaction of this nature before. Even though he had gone into it knowing that it was Sakura's plan and he had just followed along for her benefit, it was still…distasteful. She looked so miserable; blinking so hard that Itachi had no doubt she was trying her best not to cry, and he felt inexplicably guilty for even having a part in this.

The fact that she had even come up with a plan of this depth, though, testified to her intelligence – and even though he was not looking forward to the role that he had to play, Itachi knew that even the briefest of slips on his part would not go unnoticed. His plan was at a crucial stage, and any deviations would not do at all. Orochimaru's removal of her confirmed that Sakura's word did hold some sway over Sasuke, and the absolute last thing that heneeded was for her to become suspicious in any way.

Finally, Itachi compelled himself to stand, before holding a hand out to Sakura. The simple, unexpectedly courteous gesture startled her for a moment, although she made herself reach out and take it politely, rising to her feet a little unsteadily.

Now that their 'arrangement' had been finalized, she couldn't help but feel like the silence that settled over them was just heavy and awkward, as they made their way through the crowded bar. Every single one of her most primitive survival instincts was screaming at Sakura to run while she still could; it felt like, with every step forward, she was sealing another nail in her coffin; condemning herself to some kind of nightmarish fate.

A vision of Sasuke's face flitted through her mind's eye, though, and Sakura winced. She couldn't. This could be the only chance she would ever have to help him with something this monumentally important.

She was so lost in thought that she almost didn't register stepping outside, until the wall of bitter cold veritably slammed her in the face. Sakura flinched back before she could stop herself; it felt ten times worse than it had before, since she had just spent so long inside the bar. Maybe it actually was a stroke of luck that she had found Itachi – if she had to retire back into the elements for the night; it would probably have killed her.

Almost as if he had read her mind, Itachi reached out, locking a not unpleasantly tight but still thoroughly unwelcome grip around her wrist as the two of them silently continued down the streets. It was as much a possessive gesture as it was a warning; in sharp contrast to her own weakened state, Sakura could just feel the dark, incredible strength – unlike anything she had ever experienced before – of his chakra simmering beneath every centimeter of skin.

Passing the row of expensive restaurants and experiencing the heavenly smells that continued to permeate the air around them was only slightly less agonizing this time around, and Sakura bit her chapped lower lip hard as her head spun mercilessly with hunger. It made her dizzy, and if Itachi hadn't been holding onto her, she might have actually fallen. Maybe he'd be merciful and order her some food first – or maybe, if his older brother was as sadistic as Sasuke suggested, he would make her hold up her end of the bargain before he extended his.

Sakura willed the thoughts away. It wouldn't do to freak herself out even more about this; she could have a nervous breakdown right now, without the added provocation.

After what seemed like forever, Itachi finally made a sharp left, leading her through the glass doors and into the expansive lobby of one of the numerous hotels that lined the town's side streets. From one glance, Sakura could tell that it was one of the higher-end establishments: chandelier, expensive gold décor, plush red carpeting. The clerk sitting behind the large, hand-carved oak desk was an elderly man who practically exuded pretentiousness out of every pore of his being – he sized Itachi up for a fraction of a second and then looked somewhat approving, but when his gaze drifted down to Sakura, she couldn't help but blush and feel very, very small; he was looking at her as if she was a drowned, mangled street rat, or something equally disgusting.

"Yes?" he asked hesitantly, glancing back over at Itachi.

"I require one room for the night," Itachi replied curtly, and Sakura almost jumped when she felt his hand come to rest on the small of her back.

Again, the clerk's eyes flickered over her with an expression of the deepest distaste, and Sakura felt her fingers curl into a fist, her chest tightening with rage. She had to look down at the floor in order to keep herself from snapping at him. What right did _he _have, to pass judgment on her – and all the other women who actually had to do this because they had no other choice? "With all due respect, _sir,_" he said, in a tone that was anything but. "This is a classy, respectable establishment, and I do not wish to set a precedent that—"

His voice faltered and trailed off entirely, and even though Sakura couldn't summon the strength or interest to look up, she knew what must have happened. She didn't blame him. Watching gray eyes slowly and dangerously bleed into that deep blood-red color, punctuated by the three sickle-bladed tomoe, was easily one of the most disturbing sights one could witness. Sasuke was fond of using it as an intimidation tactic, and now she knew where he had probably learned it from.

There was a loud scrambling sound, and the clerk practically threw the keys to a room at Itachi. "Have a good night," he said quickly.

Without another word, Itachi turned and stalked off in the direction of the elevator, and even though Sakura had no choice but to follow, she couldn't help throwing another glance back at the clerk. He was staring after them, his hair standing on end from where he had run his fingers through it agitatedly, and this time, when his eyes lit on her – there was no disgust or condemnation, only pity.

The elevator doors slid shut, locking her in with Itachi, and Sakura swallowed, looking at the brightly colored buttons. Well, that only made two of them.

The ride to the top floor was agonizingly long, and even though the room that she finally found herself stepping into was deliciously warm and luxurious in every way, she couldn't keep her hands from shaking with barely repressed nerves. Her throat was closed over and as dry as sandpaper, and Sakura swallowed hard. Her back was to Itachi, but she heard the click of the lock, and her heart hammered a few times, before promptly sinking down somewhere into the region of her stomach. The pink-haired kunoichi knew that she should probably turn and look at him, but her rigid muscles had completely locked up.

Itachi looked her over quietly, without making even a single move to bridge the distance between them. She was trying to be brave, that much was obvious, but the fear and apprehension were radiating off her in waves so strong that they were almost tangible. Perhaps it was just because it was the end of a long, hard day and the worry about Sasuke was making him unusually sentimental, but something about it tugged at his heartstrings a little. Some instinct told him that Sakura wouldn't scare easily, and the dark-haired shinobi couldn't help but wonder what exactly Sasuke had told her about him.

Every one of Sakura's instincts were hyper-sensitized, but still, she nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt Itachi's hands come to rest on the curve of her waist – she hadn't even felt him approach, and she went stock-still at the way he rubbed his thumbs, almost gently, along the contour of that part of her body. Perversely enough, the touch was half-comforting and half enough to make her skin crawl. Still, she closed her eyes and tried her best to even her breathing. Running the risk of offending him was not an option.

Somewhat mechanically, Itachi continued the actions for another five seconds exactly, before slowly withdrawing. His heart wasn't in it – could never, would never be in it, he supposed – but even more so at this moment. Compartmentalization was how he had survived the past ten years, but right now, he could not even manage that.

Sakura finally turned around, looking up at him inquisitively; the look in her large, expressive eyes made it clear that she was trying hard not to dare to hope, and Itachi made himself nod a curt dismissal at her, indicating the adjacent bathroom with his free hand. "You may go and warm up," he instructed stiffly.

It was only a temporary reprieve, but it was enough, and hardly believing her luck, Sakura escaped as fast as possible, ducking into the bathroom quickly and shutting and locking the door behind her before she finally allowed herself to lean against it, exhaling a long sigh of pure relief. The bathroom was almost the size of a normal bedroom, and brightly lit; the marble beneath her feet artificially warmed by some kind of heater. It had been so long since she had been in a proper bathroom that was more than the primitive, tiny and shack-like (and totally _filthy_) outhouses along the sides of roads that Sakura actually pressed her hand to her chest, so grateful and overwhelmed that she found it difficult to breathe for a moment.

But then she turned to the large, glamorously lit mirror, and her breath caught in her chest. Her first instinct was to look away, but she couldn't – the sight was so horrible that it was fascinating, and this time, she couldn't blame it on the harsh, bright lighting. Kami, no wonder the clerk had mistaken her for some kind of crack whore, because with her pale, ashen skin, chapped lips, unhealthily thin frame, unkempt, tangled hair, and bloodshot eyes, she looked the part. Sakura unzipped her vest hastily, shrugging out of it and tossing it on the fancy marble vanity, and soon followed it with her skirt, before unfastening her knee-high boots and kicking them aside. She shivered, crossing her arms over her chest and staring into her miserable-looking reflection apprehensively.

As unquestionably gross as it was to admit it, she hadn't showered in two weeks; not since the morning she had last been in the Sound base, and there was a thin layer of grime that seemed to have adhered itself to her skin. She was _so _looking forward to scrubbing it off – actually, at the moment, her nerves be damned, Sakura would almost gladly trade sex with Itachi for the simple luxury of being clean and full of food.

But suddenly, the unpleasant realization hit her: she didn't have any fresh clothes – or, even more pressingly, underclothes – to change into after her shower.

Sakura groaned aloud into the stillness of the bathroom, raking her fingers through her hair as she turned her back to the mirror, and for the first time, now that all of her worries weren't exclusively centered on when she could be warm and well-fed again, she fully realized the practical difficulties of her situation. Wearing the same clothes and underclothes for two weeks was downright disgusting, and made her a prime breeding ground for all kinds of things she didn't even want to think about, but…it wasn't like she had any more options. Perhaps the only course of action was just to cheapen herself even more and ask Itachi for straight cash after this night was over.

Fighting the urge to swear under her breath, Sakura closed the stopper on the sink and filled it up with the hottest water that the faucet could provide, before removing her underclothes as fast as possible and tossing them into the heated mini-bath, sweeping her vest and skirt in as well. Several liberal pumps of the rich, patchouli-scented soap bottle next to the sink, and _that _was taken care of. As a medic-nin, the pink-haired kunoichi was able to testify better than most how unhygienic all of this was, but maybe the near-boiling water would clean and sterilize everything adequately. After ten more rounds of washing. _Maybe. _Actually, scratch that. The clothes would be salvageable, but the underwear would have to be burned for sure.

Refusing to allow herself to think about what she would wear out of the bathroom once she was forced to leave it – her filthy, in-the-process-of-being-cleaned clothes were completely out of the question, as was the thought of strutting out naked – Sakura stepped into the marvelously oversized tub, pulling the thick emerald-green curtain firmly shut.

The shower was blissfully high-pressure, and the water so steaming hot that it actually made her sigh out loud in relief. Between scrubbing every inch of her hair and body so hard that her skin was raw and flushed, and sampling each of the row of exotic-scented soaps and hair care products, Sakura lost track of time. It was funny, how this simple luxury was something she had taken so much for granted in the Sound base, but now, it made her weak-kneed with gratitude.

It was only the thought of saving hot water for the other residents of the top floor that finally motivated Sakura to grudgingly shut off the shower. It was alright, though – she felt like she had been thoroughly and completely defrosted. Even after she whipped the curtain aside, the bathroom was still nearly opaque with scented steam, and somewhat awkwardly, she reached across to the towel rack and managed to wrap a thick black one around herself as modestly as possible, stepping out of the tub. At least it wasn't one of those stupid tiny ones; fortunately enough, it fell almost to her knees and resembled a decent strapless dress. Albeit one that could be pulled off her with one simple hand movement.

Unwillingly, she envisioned it, and Sakura actually felt her empty, empty stomach heave at the very thought; her shoulders shaking hard as she wrapped her arms around herself, folding forward for a few moments. Partly just to defer the frightening idea of stepping outside, she slowly straightened and twisted her hands around the length of her hair and wrung the excess moisture out, her eyeballs jumping around the bathroom and scanning it like a nervous animal. Regardless of the fact that she actually looked somewhat normal again after the shower, it wasn't a flattering thing to compare herself to, but—

Sakura's gaze lit on something there that wasn't before, and she actually jumped back, unnerved. Her warm, damp feet skidded on the marble floor, and she stumbled, slamming into the towel rack. It was a simple black t-shirt, lying neatly folded on the vanity next to the sink, and a pair of somewhat battered-looking, worn gray plaid pants. Both easily far too large for her, but…they would fit Itachi perfectly.

Her mind reeled, and Sakura looked over at the door so fast that she nearly cricked her neck. Locked from the inside. She hadn't heard the door open. How had he…?

She felt herself lifting her hands to her forehead, overwhelmed, and there was a sound escaping her throat that was something between a whimper and a choked sob, and Sakura slowly slid to the floor in a heap, her back still pressed to the wall. She buried her face in her hands, curling up and trying to make herself as small as possible, as for the first time, the grim reality of the situation really hit her. She was one flimsy door away from the man whom she hated, feared, and distrusted most in this world, and she was naked, vulnerable, and entirely at his mercy. Her plan determined on a few crucial conditions, and if Itachi didn't act according to her best approximations…

Sakura gulped weakly, resting her forehead on her knees. She could feel the sour bile rising in her throat, and she swallowed determinedly, her fingers scrabbling back against the wall as she sought more purchase to rise. She couldn't stay in here forever; she wasn't a coward, and she wouldn't hide like one. She had to get out there and face whatever was to come.

Still feeling a little shaky on her feet, Sakura balanced herself against the vanity, her fingers absentmindedly brushing the material of the outfit Itachi had left for her as she shrugged out of the towel. It almost hurt to put them on – it smelled pleasantly of a vague mix of pine, spearmint, and smoke, similar to Sasuke's own unique scent, which made her heart ache enough, but the clothes were soft and worn with use, and her nerves tingled unpleasantly at the thought of sharing something like this with _him_, of all people. Not to mention the whole not-wearing-underwear thing was like seventy more different kinds of strange and uncomfortable.

With one last, apprehensive look into the mirror – her complexion had taken on a rather ashen look again, but there was nothing to be done about that – Sakura finally cracked the door open and slipped out, looking around in trepidation.

The first thing she registered was the smell; fragrant enough to make her eyes nearly cross in delight. She had to reach out and grab the wall suddenly in order to steady herself, and Sakura blinked at the floor in front of the bed, trying to figure out whether she was hallucinating. Itachi, dressed similarly to her, was sitting cross-legged on the floor at the foot of the bed, but that wasn't what was drawing her attention. It was the several plates of food, and tall glass of chilled water placed at the side; about five feet away from him. Room service, apparently: onigiri filled with umeboshi, mackerel coated in miso sauce, curry rice, shrimp tempura, a large bowl filled with spicy-scented ramen noodles…

The small part of Sakura's brain that was still thinking logically was beyond ecstatic. Itachi was acting according to plan – after even one half of that spread, her strength would return; her chakra with it. And after that, the tables would definitely be turned. In such close quarters, she was guaranteed success. All she had to do was eat and then, logically enough, put herself in a position of having to thank him for his generosity and uphold her end of the bargain. Perhaps it was the fact that victory was in sight, but the thought didn't fill her with fear now. After all, it was Itachi who would be the most vulnerable when it was time for that scenario to play itself out…not her.

It was difficult, but Sakura made herself wait, looking over at Itachi cautiously. Even though the luscious scent of the food made her lightheaded and even dizzier than she had been outside, this could possibly be a trap, and she didn't want to take that risk. After a few agonizing moments, without looking up from the thick black, unmarked book that was in his lap, the elder Uchiha inclined his head a fraction of an inch, and Sakura wasted no time situating herself with her back against the bed, facing the remarkable array of food in front of her.

It was heaven. There was no other way to describe it. She forced herself to take small bites of everything, rotating between plates, and chew each of them thoroughly, even when every single one of her instincts was screaming for her to just shove it down as fast as possible. From the discreet glances that Itachi sent her way every once in a while, Sakura was fairly sure that between mouthfuls, she was moaning aloud with some degree of near-orgasmic pleasure, or making a wide array of similarly mortifying sounds, but…it was _so _good. So incredibly, unbelievably good. And if he was going to judge her, well, he could just go suck it, because the pink-haired kunoichi was fairly sure that the great Itachi Uchiha had never suffered the danger of losing his life through slow and painful starvation.

It was the weirdest thing she had ever experienced, like suffering a temporary blackout of sorts; her body just went into complete autopilot as it focused on regaining as much sustenance as possible, and when Sakura's conscious mind finally kicked in again, she was a little surprised to find all the plates completely empty, and two of her fingers in her mouth as she slowly, painstakingly licked the curry's delicious remnants off of them.

It was like being alive again. Her heart felt like it was beating normally, and for the first time in what felt like ages, her hands and feet weren't ice-cold, and she could even move her body properly. Sakura could feel the healthy flush returning to her cheeks, and the pounding, agonizing hunger headache that had been a daily part of her life for the past two weeks was gone. She felt so incredibly comfortable and full…like she could just lie down and cuddle up to the floor and have the best sleep that she'd had in half a month.

Even more significant than that, though, was the power that was returning to her; sizzling through her veins and simmering under every inch of skin. It was warm, incredibly strong, familiar enough that Sakura could cry – her chakra. All shinobi took it for granted; even she did before this, but without it, she was nothing. And with it, well…

Subtly, the pink-haired kunoichi experimentally flexed her fingers. Yeah, that was it. Kabuto-sensei had always complimented her on her massive chakra reserves, and Sakura had never fully realized their power until now. The confidence that it gave her was intoxicating, and through the cover provided by her hair, she directed a discreet look over at Itachi. He didn't seem to be aware of the changes that had taken place in her, but that was to be expected. Not only had she quickly engaged an advanced chakra concealment technique that would drastically mute the reading he would get off her, but according to Kabuto-sensei, most shinobi's chakra levels took up to two to three hours to recover even a little after being so completely drained.

Sakura felt something very unfamiliar tugging at the corners of her lips – a smirk. Then again, she wasn't most shinobi.

Itachi had set his book aside and appeared to be looking out the window…perfect. Quickly, under the guise of lifting her arms in a luxurious stretch, Sakura envisioned the schematics of it. She didn't even have to execute a bunch of hand seals – once they were touching, she just had to slowly and unobtrusively make her way to either the back of his neck or his heart, and her chakra was rejuvenated enough that only one pulse directed there would finish him off. If she had learned her lessons well, Itachi wouldn't even see it coming.

Despite herself, her heart was starting to beat a little bit faster out of sheer exhilaration. Sakura took a deep breath, compelling it to slow down, and she lifted her hands from her lap, running them through her damp hair and closing her eyes. She had to calm down, and she had to get in the zone. She only had a rough approximation of exactly how clever Itachi was, and even that was a _considerable _amount…her acting had to be flawless. If he suspected even a thing, or caught on to it even a second before she could make her move, he would take her with him.

As Sakura watched him through lowered eyelashes, she had to admit Itachi was the most icily unapproachable man she had ever seen – and that was saying something, since she didn't think it was possible for anybody to beat Sasuke on that front. She knew what she had to do, but her body was entirely refusing to comply. Itachi simply radiated 'do not even think about coming close to me', and it was difficult to surmount those kinds of vibes. But she had to get around it somehow.

_Just pretend it's Sasuke. _How many times had she seen Sasuke in a similarly dark mood, but chosen to risk getting closer anyway? _You can do this, Sakura_, she told herself bracingly, biting her lip.

Shifting her position from cross-legged to on her hands and knees was surprisingly easy and fluid, and before she could lose her nerve, Sakura inched closer to Itachi. She thought his eyes flickered toward her for half an instant, but she couldn't be sure. She hadn't watched any movies since she had been twelve, but one particularly stuck in her mind – a steamy imported Chinese film that she and Ino had snuck into shortly after they had reconciled in the preliminaries of the chunin exams. Perhaps it wasn't the most credible or realistic source, but she didn't know how to be sexy or seductive; she had nothing else to model herself after.

Her mind was a confused mess, but Sakura made herself think back to that one time six months ago, when she and Sasuke had been on the verge of actually sharing some mutual physical contact. What had she done to try and make herself look…alluring?

She lifted a shaky hand, running it through her long pink locks and smoothing it over her right shoulder carefully. Itachi didn't intend to, but he found that he couldn't help the way his eyes followed the movement for just a moment. His pretense was officially broken; Sakura had captured his notice, and from the way she was looking at him, she knew it. And he _knew _that this whole performance was just that; a clever façade, but…well, she was talented, and he couldn't help but be fascinated.

Detachedly, Itachi wondered what she was thinking of, to make her eyelids lower like that, so sultry and practically…inviting…as she stared up at him through her long pink eyelashes. The silence between them was broken only by the soft hum of the heating unit in the far corner of the room, and she was close enough that if he turned to the side a little and leaned forward an inch, they could kiss. The thought was foreign and almost completely unprecedented, considering his nature, and mentally, Itachi cringed away from it.

Slightly emboldened by the fact that he hadn't shoved her away, hadn't done anything even remotely threatening, and was even gracing her with the oh-so-wonderful honor of actually making eye contact, Sakura reached forward, extending one hand and reaching across to his opposite cheek, grazing her fingers and palm lightly across his defined cheekbone as she tilted his head slightly toward her. She could have gasped at her own daring, but the adrenaline rush that came with doing something absolutely, insanely dangerous had taken over by that point. Itachi was as still as a statue, and carefully, holding her breath – she knew that any sudden movement, _especially _toward his heart or neck, would mean death – Sakura moved just a little bit closer, tentatively nuzzling her nose against his cheek, as her heart jumped into her throat.

She couldn't help but think what a strange picture this would make – Itachi, sitting cross-legged and still looking completely unaffected by her ministrations, while she, on her hands and knees, fawned over him like an affectionate kitten. The thought turned her stomach a little, but Sakura tried her hardest to keep her composure, sliding her hand from Itachi's cheek and curving it around one sleek, muscular shoulder, as she angled herself even closer to him as gracefully as she could, tentatively trailing her lips from his nose to his ear. Stray, silken strands from his long ponytail got in her way, and Sakura had to scrunch up her nose to keep from sneezing. This was all so completely strange; setting her nerves on edge in the most unpleasant way. Even though it was the antithesis to what she had been afraid of all along, now she almost wished that Itachi would react in some way.

"Itachi," she whispered, letting her voice linger slowly over each syllable, addressing him by name for the first time. It felt strange on her tongue, but not _bad, _and Sakura tried her best to put the same inflection in her tone as she did when she talked to Sasuke like this. The same caressing, innocent half-purr. "Please…how can I ever thank you?"

For a few moments, he didn't reply, but then Sakura nearly jumped as she felt Itachi's hand on her back, the light touch pressing her closer to him. Her first instinct was to arch her entire body away from it, but that meant pressing her chest into the side of his body, and _that _particular idea made her cringe, as well. Unconsciously, her muscles froze up again, and Sakura blinked at the floor, willing herself not to throw up. She was vaguely aware of Itachi tilting his head as well, until both of their foreheads pressed together. She couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye, not even when she felt him reaching one hand up to gently curl around the side of her neck. His thumb brushed over her pulse, sending a visible shiver through her entire body. "I think you already know, Sakura," Itachi said quietly.

It was obvious that he wasn't trying to be seductive or anything – just stating the cold, hard facts. That, at least, was a small mercy. But this little façade couldn't go any further…it had to end now. This was the closest that she would ever get to the man who had mercilessly slaughtered his entire family, save for one. She had to kill Itachi now, and then find her way back to Sasuke…and pray that he would forgive her for stealing his revenge away from him.

_This is it_.

Slowly, carefully, Sakura leaned in for a kiss, gently sliding her hands up to anchor themselves behind Itachi's neck.

--And the second they touched the skin there, before she could even _think _about doing it, an excruciating pain unlike anything Sakura had ever experienced wracked her entire body, petrifying her from head to toe.

She'd experienced pain before. Periodically, Orochimaru would gather the five of them – Sasuke, Jugo, Karin, Suigetsu, and herself – and 'test' them by making them execute torture jutsu on one another. The one who could execute the most powerful technique was always rewarded…but then again, even though Sakura knew that the other four's devotion to Orochimaru was all-encompassing and genuine, unlike her own, she knew that they didn't torture her, or each other, as hard as they could have.

Maybe she blacked out. Sakura wasn't quite sure. But when her eyes opened again, her breath ragged and shallow, it felt like nothing more than a split second had passed. She was practically in Itachi's lap now, curled against his chest, her forehead resting against the base of his throat. It took her body a few moments to react – surprisingly, her rapid-fire instinctive threat response hadn't kicked in; like, for some reason, her body actually felt _safe _in his arms. Mentally, the pink-haired kunoichi scoffed – whatever had just happened had obviously messed with her mind a little.

But what _had _happened? Itachi was running his hands down the length of her back, but she couldn't sense any fluctuations in his chakra. He hadn't seemed to have used any kind of torture jutsu on her, and he couldn't have hit a pressure point – if that was the case, she would have no muscle control whatsoever, and would be lying in a limp ball on the floor. But he had done something to her. She didn't know what, but he had done _something_ - probably to warn her off.

…Why would he do that, though? From what Sasuke had told her, Itachi was the type to just…go straight for the kill. Maybe she had imagined the whole thing. Maybe it was the stress of the situation, or her nerves, or something. She had never done anything so difficult and potentially dangerous in her life, so maybe her mental state was getting a little unhinged. Either way, it just compounded the sense that she had to get this done, _now. _

Cautiously, Sakura tilted her head back to look up at Itachi. He was glancing down at her, not seeming in the least perturbed by whatever mental breakdown she had just experienced. Well, that didn't matter. This time, she would make it work.

It felt like it took an agonizingly long time for her to wrap one hand around his long, side-swept ponytail, lightly tugging Itachi down to her. There was no time for trepidation now, and this time, the second that their lips brushed each other's, Sakura wrapped her arms around his neck, executing the one requisite pulse of chakra; as strong as she could possibly make it.

Time stopped in that second; there was no other way to describe it.

But then it went on, like it wasn't _supposed _to – with Itachi tilting his head just a little, and the really awkward pressure of their tightly closed-mouth kiss getting even _more _awkward. His lips weren't warm like they were supposed to be, and she could feel his heart beating underneath the too-thin layers of fabric that separated them.

Every instinct in her body screamed for her to jerk away, horrified beyond belief. What had happened? Her chakra never failed. _Never. _It wasn't possible, for somebody as strong as her, with chakra reserves this strong. And it couldn't be now; not now, of all times…

It put Sakura in an even more uncomfortable position, as she forced herself to press herself closer against him, as a guise to slide her hand slowly, seductively down his leanly muscled chest, pressing it against his heart as she unfolded herself, pressing her chest flat against his – the contact sent unwilling shivers of something she couldn't name deep into her core – so that she was practically on top of Itachi. She made this pulse of chakra even stronger, but again…nothing.

_Oh, kami. _Her mind reeled, her stomach contorting into a knot, as, unable to force herself to continue the performance any longer, Sakura twisted away from Itachi, practically pushing him away in the height of her panic, falling to the floor and looking at her hands disbelievingly.

He had sealed her chakra earlier; that was the only possible explanation. It was an S-ranked jutsu; one that Kabuto-sensei had told her that only Kage-level shinobi like Orochimaru knew. It was an extraordinarily complicated technique, one designed not to drain someone's chakra, but to literally lock it inside their body, rendering it ineffective. No matter how much chakra you had, if it was sealed by an experienced shinobi…like Itachi…it was useless. Kabuto-sensei had told her that her chances of ever encountering somebody who would use a chakra-sealing jutsu against her were point zero zero one percent.

It was practically enough to drain all the fight out of her. To be that close, and then have her hopes snatched away…and then, to make matters worse, now, Itachi would surely know that she had been trying something with him. But now, she couldn't even do that. Again, she was at his mercy, and that knowledge was enough to make Sakura want to gouge her eyes out with a kunai.

She stayed still, not daring to look up, not even possessing the resolve to make another move. There was no use now. In hand-to-hand combat, her chances were slim to none. Her best option was to wait for him to make a move on her, and hopefully, during the…lapse in strict mental concentration and control that would surely ensue on his part, the sealing jutsu would dissipate. When that time came, she would have to act fast. Now, instead of sending shivers of fear down her spine, the thought just made her feel completely, utterly numb. She had fucked up royally when it came to underestimating her opponent, but it was alright. She would not simply lie down and accept defeat. She was _not_ going to be the bait to lure Sasuke to Itachi, or the toy that he entertained himself with until he went to hunt Sasuke down and try to kill him like he did the rest of his family…or whatever the hell the psychopath intended.

Another opportunity would arise, and when it did, she would strike. And Sakura was unquestionably, undoubtedly sure that, in the end, it would be Itachi who would underestimate _her. _And in his case (as it wasn't going to be for her) it would be a fatal mistake.

After what felt like a long time, Sakura felt Itachi's fingers pressing against her chin, gently tilting her face upward. His handsome features were, again, as expressionless as she felt.

She made herself meet his gaze fearlessly, but then, before Sakura could even blink, his hands had interlaced with hers – not pulling her back to him, as she thought he would, but instead gently tugging her upward, into a standing position. Itachi rose as well, and Sakura hardly dared to breathe as he guided her over to the other side of the bed, before soundlessly releasing her and padding back to the opposite side.

Sakura stared at the thick, exotically colored dark purple silk bedspread uncomprehendingly, unsure of what to expect, until the one small lamp that had been lighting the room with its dim, faintly comforting orange glow went out.

It was darker than she had expected, and maybe it was just instinct, but Sakura automatically reached for the comforter, drawing it back and somewhat nervously slipping underneath its cover. Her body's first reaction was to relax – the bed was incredibly large and softer than anything she had ever slept in, and the silk pillowcase smelled faintly of lavender, which made her suddenly realize how exhausted she was.

But Sakura made herself lie on her back, as stiff as a board, hyper-conscious of the presence three feet away from her…of whether he would make a move or not.

Eventually, though, Itachi turned away, his back facing her. Something inside Sakura relaxed, the iron hand that had clenched around her chest loosening somewhat, and even before the thought fully formed in her head, she dismissed it. If this was some half-assed attempt to lure her into a trap; it wouldn't work, because she was smarter than that. He wasn't sleeping. The second that she even twitched; that she rose up on her knees and attempted to wrap her hands around his throat…well, she wouldn't underestimate him again. Itachi had reflexes better than the best of shinobi, and if she even tried anything right now, she would be dead before she had even realized that she failed.

Sakura could feel her body begging her to let it sleep. Her eyelids were heavy; her muscles numb and leaden. But as the seconds and the minutes on the digital clock near Itachi slowly ticked by, she tried to force her mind to stay alert and thinking coherently.

Where would she go from here? How could she possibly work this situation to her advantage?

It was no use, though, and by the next breath, exhausted by all the happenings of this vaguely nightmarish day, Sakura had already fallen sound asleep.

* * *

_to be contin__ued_

* * *

As always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :)


	5. Balancing

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was fantastic enough to review. :)_

_Chapter Five: Balancing_

* * *

_Sound; One Week Earlier_

* * *

"No matter what you hear, don't come down."

Suigetsu was the first to nod his affirmation, despite the fact that his knuckles were a stark, painful shade of white from how tightly he was gripping the handle of his sword. Karin followed suit, more reluctantly, and even though Sasuke's gaze locked on him, cold and expectant, Jugo couldn't exactly bring himself to speak. His chest was tight with worry, and he couldn't stop thinking about how Sakura would react if she were here. It was true; they were doing this so they could get out and find her, if she was still alive – she _had _to still be alive – but Jugo just _knew _that if Sakura knew that the three of them were just going to let Sasuke go through with his crazy plan without even voicing some sort of argument or attempting to talk him out of it…well, she would probably strangle them with her bare hands.

"What if it doesn't work?" he blurted out, ignoring how Karin and Suigetsu's heads swiveled toward him incredulously. "Sasuke, this is a bad idea – we should just sneak out and leave; there's no need for you to take such a risk—"

Suigetsu snorted, interrupting him, as usual. "What are you, channeling Sakura now? This is the only way, Jugo. You should know that."

Jugo didn't react; his orange eyes fixing on Sasuke's expressionless face anxiously. Well, it _had _been expressionless – the second Suigetsu said Sakura's name, the younger Uchiha's mouth twisted into a grim slash. "He's right," Sasuke agreed, his voice sharp and clipped. "I _will _be back here – and remember what I said earlier."

This time, Jugo had no choice but to nod his agreement, even as he felt his shoulders slump slightly. The door slammed shut behind Sasuke, leaving the three of them locked in an unbearably tense silence.

"Do you think he can do it?" Jugo asked quietly, his voice hardly above a whisper. He knew that saying something like that out loud was borderline treason, but…

Karin, who was about as pale as chalk, inclined her head a fraction of an inch. Even the neater side of her hair stood on end from where she had run her fingers through it, but her voice was calm and resolved. "I think so. I mean…he'd never let on to it, but he'd break down mountains for Sakura."

Even Suigetsu nodded as well, reaching up to rub the back of his neck tersely. "There's not going to be a better time. Orochimaru-sama…uh…Orochimaru…he's been weaker than usual of late. I just hope Sasuke gets it over with quickly."

They lapsed into that horrible silence again. Suigetsu was compulsively running his fingers down the length of the sword's blade, Karin had balled her hands into fists and was glaring at a corner of the floor, and eventually, Jugo became aware that he was grinding his teeth together painfully hard.

The first crash wasn't that loud. It wasn't something they would have heard if they hadn't all been waiting for it, but it was such a shocking disruption to the tense atmosphere of the room that Suigetsu's fingers slipped on the sharp edge of the blade, accidentally drawing blood, and he cursed loudly.

"Shut up!" Jugo snapped, the sudden vehemence shocking all of them – himself included.

Suigetsu bristled visibly, looking up and grabbing the handle of his sword again, but Karin laid a restraining hand on his arm. "Not now," she said, sounding unusually weary, and the two of them subsided.

In order to make sure that he was as emotionally stable and under control as possible, Jugo made himself look down at the bed that they were all sitting on, carefully beginning to count the fraying threads of the worn black blanket.

He had reached five hundred and sixty-three when the door slammed open again, and Sasuke walked back into Sakura and Karin's room.

Karin actually shrieked, and Suigetsu threw his sword aside, but when the two of them leaped off the bed to make their way over to him, Jugo hung back, staring at their leader and friend almost nervously. Sasuke looked…all right. He didn't appear to be injured. His voice was steady as he responded to Suigetsu and Karin's litany of frantic questions with his customary brusque, one-word answers. He kept rubbing his right shoulder, though, but more than that, it was the look in his eyes that made the hair on the back of Jugo's neck stand up. Whatever had happened down there…it might not have hurt Sasuke physically, but the look in his eyes was one of someone who had experienced something truly horrible. And yes, Sasuke had experienced a _lot _of horrible things before – he had witnessed his family being brutally murdered by his own older brother, for the kami's sake – but this seemed almost as bad.

"Where is he?" Jugo asked quietly, as Suigetsu and Karin finally stepped back from Sasuke.

For a moment, something in Sasuke seemed to flicker as he rubbed his right arm. "…Gone," he said quietly.

Jugo saw the way Karin's eyes fell downward; the way she blinked a little too hard. Out of all of them, she had been most loyal to him. He had saved her life – found her, after her entire village had perished, and brought her to Sound. If it hadn't been for Orochimaru, she probably wouldn't have survived. Still, she looked up at Sasuke again, and a tiny ghost of a smile touched her lips as she nodded.

"So," Suigetsu stated bluntly, retrieving his sword from where it had fallen. "Next…"

He hadn't even needed to say it; they could all see the restlessness and barely hidden aggression written in every nuance of Sasuke's body language, and the way his glance kept flickering out the door and down the hallway…toward one of the two entrances to Kabuto's private laboratory. Privately, Jugo marveled at the fact that Sasuke had even restrained himself for this past week.

"Let's go," Sasuke commanded shortly, and without waiting for them, he turned abruptly and stormed out of the small room, practically radiating killing intent.

They could only follow, and Jugo wasn't blind to the apprehensive looks that even Karin and Suigetsu were directing at Sasuke's back. Sasuke had been all about the icy self-control in the few days leading up to this…he knew that, when it came to confronting Orochimaru, anything less would lead to disaster. This was different. Jugo hadn't known Kabuto as well as Sakura had, but he felt that the medic-nin was fundamentally a good person, and right now, he feared for Kabuto's life. None of them had seen Sasuke come this close to losing control before, and the results would undoubtedly be…explosive.

The door to the stairway leading to the lab was locked; only Kabuto and Sakura had the key, but Sasuke simply slammed it open with one shoulder, the aged wood splintering with a solid crack, before practically charging down the stairs. Jugo followed more slowly; it was dark, and Sasuke quickly disappeared from sight.

"Hurry," Karin breathed, pushing against Jugo's back. It was still really dimly lit down here, but he could practically hear that she was biting her lip. "Get down_ faster_, Jugo—"

"Calm down, Karin, he's not going to kill Kabuto on sight—" Suigetsu interjected, but his sentence was cut off by an ear-splitting shattering sound, followed by several loud crashes, and Jugo stopped dead at the base of the staircase, so that Karin and Suigetsu slammed into his back. He vaguely registered their sounds of protest, but his eyes were riveted on the scene before him, and he threw one arm out to prevent Karin and Suigetsu from entering the lab.

Sasuke had pulled out his katana, slamming down on one of Kabuto's crowded shelves of precious medical ingredients, and the thousands of shattered glass shards were all over the cold stone floor, various colored liquids spilling everywhere. He had cornered Kabuto against the counter, and even from there, even in the dim lights, Jugo could see the expression of pure terror on the medic-nin's face as Sasuke advanced on him. "Answer me, scum," he hissed – _hissed_; the sound uncannily similar to Orochimaru at his angriest – his breathing uneven. "What did you do with her?"

"I didn't—"

That was all Kabuto could get out, pressing himself back even further and obviously debating whether to use any medical ninjutsu, before Sasuke reached out, physically grabbing him by the chest of his shirt and flinging him back into one of the other shelves. The same ear-splitting shattering was instantaneous, and Jugo felt Karin jump back and Suigetsu wince. "I said, _answer _me!" Sasuke yelled, his voice cracking with the strain, as he locked one of his hands around Kabuto's throat, forcing him back against the rows of broken glass. The temptation to twist his hands tighter and force every inch of air out of Kabuto's vile throat was getting higher and higher with the second.

Kabuto was pushing against him, struggling futilely, and when his glasses fell off, Sasuke made it a point to step on them, grinding them beneath his boots into nothing but fine powder, just like the rest of his oh-so-wonderful medical glass bottles and vials. "Listen," Kabuto rasped, hardly able to force the words out. "I didn't kill Sakura-chan, I could never—"

Sasuke saw red, and he released Kabuto's throat, grabbing him by the arm and throwing him across the room, so that he fell hard against one of the operating tables, his ribs slamming into one of the corners and all of the breath leaving his body in a painful-sounding gasp. "Don't _call _her that, you—"

"Sasuke, calm the fuck down!" Suigetsu was yelling, his voice strained with tension as well, and loud enough to hurt Jugo's ear; he was that close. "Just ask where she is!"

Kabuto had collapsed on the floor, blood soaking through his pale shirt from where the bottles had cut him, as he gasped for breath – the impact of the table against his ribs might have cracked a few of them, luckily – and Sasuke glared down at him hatefully, prodding the fallen man's leg with his foot. "Well?"

"I don't know," Kabuto gasped, waving a hand with a wavering sheet of medical chakra over the many wounds on his chest. "I – I knocked her out, and I just used a transportation jutsu – I wanted to get her as far away from Orochimaru-sama as I could—"

"_How far_?"

"I don't know! Three hundred, three hundred fifty miles would be my best approximation – that's somewhere near the Land of Stone, I think – I left her in the middle of some forest…"

"Two weeks ago," Sasuke said, his voice dangerously calm. "Excellent. Thank you for your help."

In the next moment, he grabbed Kabuto's shirt again, hauling him to his feet roughly and pinning him against the stainless steel operating table. To Kabuto's horror, the katana was in his other hand, the lethally sharp blade pointing right at his throat—

Jugo felt Suigetsu catch his breath and Karin turn away, but the words were out of his throat before he could stop them. "Sasuke, _don't_! He – he spared her life, Sasuke; you can't kill him!"

Sasuke glanced back toward him, his eyes cold and emotionless. Kabuto looked petrified, and then Sasuke gave him another dismissive shake, pressing him even harder against the table. "Yeah, he did it…for his own filthy, selfish reasons."

"What does it matter?" Karin cut in, her voice shaking. "The fact is that he did it – he disobeyed one of Orochimaru-sama's orders at great risk to himself and, because of that, Sakura is out there somewhere, _alive, _when she could have been dead!"

The hand holding the katana wavered slightly, but didn't lower.

"Don't do it, Sasuke," Jugo said exhaustedly, all the stress of the past few hours finally catching up to him. "Just…don't."

A few tense seconds later, the katana clattered to the floor, the sound making all of them flinch, and Sasuke flung Kabuto free of him, wiping his hands clean almost disgustedly. "Fine," he said icily, locking eyes with the medic-nin. "I'll spare your life – that's thanks enough. By the way, your darling _Orochimaru-sama _is gone. So once you're done cleaning yourself off, you'd be best off just leaving this place."

Kabuto nodded, a little shakily, and just like that, Sasuke turned around, striding away dismissively, and he stopped when he finally caught sight of his small team – still standing in the stairway, all of them shaking somewhat. "Well?" he asked, sounding a little bit disbelieving. "Turn around. We're leaving. Now."

* * *

_Stone, Present_

* * *

Approximately three hours after sunrise, Itachi's eyes snapped open.

One brief glance at the window confirmed that he had allowed himself to sleep much later than customary – inconvenient, yes, but the previous day had been quite a bit more taxing than average…in more ways than one. He had not even closed his eyes until he was completely certain that Sakura was asleep, and even then, despite how deeply weary and exhausted he was, his mind had refused to let him rest.

Blinking the lingering fatigue out of his eyes, Itachi turned his head to the side cautiously, observing the girl beside him. Sakura was sprawled on her stomach, her long, disarrayed hair covering her face entirely, but from her deep, even breathing, he could tell that she was still sound asleep. He could only imagine the physical and emotional stress that she would have been under in the past two weeks – it was realistic to assume that she would sleep for at least a few more hours, if not more.

Careful not to disturb her, Itachi slipped out of the bed quietly, soundlessly making his way to the bathroom. Sakura appeared to have flung a towel over one of the sinks, shielding it from view, so he had no choice but to turn to the other one. Not even a few minutes later, though, he had to grit his teeth hard, collapsing against the hard marble counter, to keep the sudden coughing fit as quiet as possible. Once, he had been able to control the episodes, but it was getting harder and harder to predict when the spasmodic, violent attacks would come on, and that was especially unfortunate, considering his current circumstances.

Once his body had recovered somewhat, and he had let the water from the faucet run until all the blood had washed away, Itachi leaned against the wall a little unsteadily, closing his eyes tight. His chest and throat were raw and painful, his shoulders were rising and falling unevenly and he was out of breath, the blood pounding all too loudly in his ears, but he tried to gather his thoughts, nevertheless; he had found that increased stress only contributed to increasing the severity of the condition.

He couldn't think of Sasuke – that, ever since what Sakura had mentioned to him about the possibility of an 'agreement' between Sasuke and Orochimaru, would only serve to agitate him even further. Despite himself, Itachi's thoughts turned back to the pink-haired kunoichi as he lifted one hand, absentmindedly rubbing his chest as if that would actually help get rid of the almost crippling ache within. It took much more effort than he had anticipated to lock Sakura's chakra, and he was feeling the strain more every moment; the strength and quantity of her reserves were very admirable. In the one conversation in which Sasori had mentioned that his informant, Kabuto, had acquired a young apprentice whom he was teaching all of his formidable skill set to, he had failed to elaborate on exactly how talented the kunoichi was. Itachi could guess that, if she was able to kill with a single strike to a pressure point, Sakura would have exceptional chakra control as well.

It was almost a pity that he had to stop her. She would have made it fast and completely painless, unlike any confrontation with Sasuke would be…but dying at Sakura's hands wasn't what was written for him.

Itachi could feel the slight frown that etched itself into his forehead as his gaze drifted toward the towel-covered sink. That would not do at all. He had hardly anticipated this situation, but it seemed that for now, Sakura was to be his responsibility. He had no idea as to how long it would take for Sasuke to discover that Sakura was actually alive and subsequently leave Sound in order to pursue her, and even though Itachi intended to make it as easy as possible for Sakura to attempt contacting Sasuke in order to hopefully lead him to them, there would still be a lapse period of at least a month before that could happen.

Itachi sighed quietly, finger-combing his hair and securing it into a neat low ponytail and giving the sink another dubious look. It was the middle of winter, and beginning to snow more with every day that passed. The first order of business should be to outfit Sakura properly; he had no intention of allowing her to die of pneumonia during their time together. Dressed like that, it was a miracle that she had not become severely ill already, and she couldn't wear his clothes for much longer; she had to have something to change into before their mission.

He left the bathroom silently, glancing over at Sakura again. She hadn't moved a muscle, and with one last look backward, Itachi locked the door from the outside and quietly exited.

* * *

Even though the day had just begun, all the stores in the more affluent part of town were already open for business, with quite a number of people strolling among them, carrying large, brightly-colored bags. As he pressed through the crowd, Itachi couldn't help but feel a little ill at ease. It was bracingly cold and there was a light amount of snowfall; as it always did in such harsh, icy weather, his throat had closed over, making it even more difficult to breathe, and he bit down on his tongue to stifle the urge to cough.

It was extraordinarily rare that he and Kisame ever operated in crowded areas like this one, and the impulse to utilize an appearance-altering genjutsu was strong. Still, Itachi caught himself at the last moment; he could bet that when Sasuke left Sound, this would be one of the first places he visited in the process of following Sakura's trail…and somehow, Sasuke had to realize that the two of them were linked. Sasuke could not be torn between the idea of finding Sakura, or finding him; he had to know that they were together. Not only would it eliminate that potential time-stealing conflict, but it should also be a considerable motivator on Sasuke's part. For the first time in his life, Itachi had to make himself somewhat conspicuous, instead of avoiding notice. Sasuke had to find him before it was too late, and time was running out by the minute.

Trying his best to shelve thoughts of that nature, Itachi turned abruptly into the first clothing store that he passed, simply to get out of the cold, and to attempt distracting himself from such sobering contemplations. The inside was pleasantly warm; aesthetically, though, the store was hideous, and even though he was hardly an elitist of any sort, the elder Uchiha felt his expression undergo the minute twitches that signaled utter disgust with his surroundings. The floors were clear and had sparkles and glitter – _sparkles _and _glitter, _for the kami's sake – embedded into them, and the air practically thrummed with the volume of incredibly, irritatingly loud and upbeat music. There were a large number of male mannequins in provocative poses dressed in female's clothing scattered all over the area, and vice versa. And above all, Itachi simply could not make sense of the clothing. At all. Out of the hundreds of items his eyes lit on as they scanned the store, he could not find a single thing that actually seemed practical and wearable.

The dark-haired shinobi glowered at a rack of hideously ugly sheer floral-print devices, which he assumed were some sort of semblance of shirt, giving them a wide berth as he passed. Unfortunately, this was obviously not the standard type of shinobi outfitting store where he could at least _guess _at kunoichi-appropriate attire, but something else entirely.

Ignoring the salesperson who was watching him from afar, obviously deciding whether she did or did not dare to risk an approach, Itachi tentatively inched closer to a nearby shelving system which seemed to house sweaters of every imaginable color, reaching out and prodding one of the sweaters almost flinchingly, before his shoulders relaxed visibly. Unlike the other excuses for clothing in this store, this seemed to be quite acceptable. It was easily one of the softest and most comfortable things he had ever touched before, and it even felt warm, and before he even realized what he was doing, the _prod _had turned into a full-out pet and stroke. Not only that, but it was a rather pleasing shade of dark red; one that would look exceptionally nice in contrast with Sakura's hair color and against her pale skin.

Itachi blinked, somewhat embarrassed, as he pulled his hands back to himself almost self-consciously. Touching something that he imagined Sakura wearing like that…or, well, imagining himself touching it _while _Sakura happened to be wearing it was a little…inappropriate. Unprecedented. Yes.

Once he judged himself to be thinking properly again, Itachi unfolded the sweater and gave it a proper once-over, still uncomfortably unsure of whether or not he felt a slight flush across his cheekbones. It had a scooped neckline and would be close-fitting, but it was…appropriately wearable.

…Well. That was _definitely _an uncomfortable blush that was spreading across his face. Itachi somewhat awkwardly re-folded the sweater and stuck it under his arm. He was fairly certain that a middle-aged woman a few feet away was staring at him disapprovingly, but, honestly, it wasn't like he was going to buy Sakura the largest and most shapeless piece of outerwear in this entire store just because—

Unable to shake the feeling of being slightly strange and out of place, Itachi cleared his throat nervously and left that section of the store as quickly as possible. He was hardly willing to face that kind of agitating experience again, so, upon chancing on the appropriate shelving area, he just grabbed a pair of the smallest sized pants available and placed them underneath the sweater without giving them another glance. After all, he didn't even want to give himself a chance to think about what _low-rise _meant. Hopefully Sakura would be able to figure it out on her own; she definitely seemed like an intelligent girl.

It was only after he paid for the two purchases and finally exited the oppressive atmosphere of the nightmarish clothing store that Itachi felt himself breathe easily again. That had been an experience he did not ever desire to repeat. _Ever. _The clothes that Sakura had brought with her from Sound were utterly beyond repair, yes, but these would last her a while. The two of them also had a mission to attend to, and by the end of today, if everything went according to plan, he should have some money to give Sakura so that she could go and buy her own things…therefore sparing him this less-than-savory task.

Itachi made his way down the street, rather self-consciously holding the outrageously pink bag to his side as if its increased proximity to him would do something to make it less pink and more…gray. Perhaps he should get Sakura a scarf as well. Or gloves. They weren't _necessary_, per say, but he had the nagging feeling that he was forgetting something essential, and…

When the actual realization of what he was forgetting struck him, Itachi actually felt his face turn chalk-white.

The use of profanity was an indication of a weak mind; Itachi remembered his mother lecturing Shisui on that particular issue numerous times when the two of them had been much younger, and Shisui had been possessed of the unfortunate propensity to utilize expletives at least two times in every sentence. Personally, Itachi himself had never been inclined toward such things, but right now…well, it was appropriate.

Belatedly, Itachi realized that he had stopped dead in the middle of the street, causing a small collision course of sorts behind him, and a brown-haired young man gave him a very dirty look before shoving past him and continuing on.

Lacking the energy or emotional resolve to retaliate, Itachi lifted one of his hands and rubbed the back of his neck exasperatedly. He had done more than his share of difficult things in his life, but this was just unreasonable. On the other hand, though, he could hardly expect Sakura to go through the entire day without, well…those certain essentials. Her opinion of him would only deteriorate further, because of _course _she would believe that he would have done it on purpose.

Not that her opinion mattered at all, Itachi was quick to clarify, for his own benefit.

It took fifteen minutes of walking, with his heart sinking more with every step, to find a suitable place where such things could be purchased. It took another five minutes of standing in front of the next store down to summon the resolve to actually enter.

It looked tasteful and discreet, which was a small blessing, and luckily, there didn't appear to be a lot of people in this particular area of the street. Swallowing over his too-dry throat, Itachi entered the small store, somewhat wryly noting his ashen reflection in the glass door. Fully understandable, considering the circumstances.

The melody of one of those inanely cheerful bells fastened to the door announced his arrival, but with one quick look around the store, instinctively, he breathed a discreet sigh of relief. It was completely empty, and quiet, save for the piping – at a much more reasonable volume, thankfully – of the same sort of frenetically upbeat music that had been in the other store.

But then, the silence was broken by somebody slowly, deliberately, clearing their throat, and even though Itachi knew that there was no risk of a life-threatening situation or hostile presence, he felt all of his muscles stiffen up as he warily turned to face the woman sitting behind the checkout desk, about five feet away from him.

For a few long moments, the two of them sized each other up. For his part, Itachi had to fight the urge to recoil – she had long honey-blonde hair held up in a low ponytail and bright blue eyes, and in all honesty, she looked like a female version of Deidara. Horrifying, to say the least.

For her part, the woman just lowered her fashion magazine a few more inches and raised one eyebrow, and that said it all.

In all seriousness, Itachi had always prided himself on being a man of actions rather than words. According to Kisame, he could convey more with one eyebrow twitch or facial tilt than many other individuals could with several spoken sentences. Furthermore, his training in ANBU had made him an expert in decoding body language, and the saleswoman's one eyebrow raise conveyed it all – skepticism. Contempt. Ridicule. Condemnation. Itachi was no stranger to most of this, but that kind of negative emotion, directed at him from a mere civilian who had no knowledge of the atrocities he had been forced to commit in the past, was quite unsettling. Obviously she looked down upon him. He was not familiar with such things, but even he knew that the majority of men who strolled into lingerie stores were not doing so for purely altruistic reasons.

"Can I help you, sir?" she asked, every syllable dripping utter sarcasm.

His first impulse was to brush it off and attempt to make sense of this entire ridiculous business on his own. But then Itachi took another look at the store, and it was…well, some things were just beyond him, and this was probably one of them. He sincerely regretted what he had to do, but it was necessary.

"Yes," Itachi replied, keeping his voice as even and unemotional as possible. "I am shopping for my younger sister, who is a paraplegic and unfortunately far too fragile to leave our house. My mother usually performs these types of activities, but she is currently too severely ill to do so."

The saleslady's jaw dropped, and Itachi watched calmly as the mortified woman practically propelled herself from behind the desk, armed with a shopping basket that she snatched up from the floor. "Oh, the poor thing!" she gushed, patting Itachi on the arm, and he had to try his hardest not to cringe away. "Now," – she tottered away down one of the aisles at high speeds, her high heels making loud clacking noises against the tile, and he followed at a distance, determinedly looking at the floor – "how old is she?"

If his memory served him correctly, Sakura was only a few months older than Sasuke. "Fifteen," Itachi replied clearly. "…Almost sixteen."

She made a sympathetic squeaking sort of noise, cutting a sharp right and leading him to the far end of the store, before gesturing dramatically to the seemingly endless amount of sales racks. "Our entire juniors selection. You should be able to find anything you want here, according to size." She paused, giving Itachi a dubious look. "You _do _understand the sizing system, correct?"

"Yes," Itachi lied, without a moment's hesitation, his gaze carefully fixed on a set point on the wall across from them.

The saleslady sniffed skeptically. "Right to left, smallest to largest," she said, turning back to return to the front of the store. "Yell if you need anything."

_Of course._

Once he was absolutely certain that he was alone, Itachi finally, a little flinchingly, redirected his gaze over to the right side of the vast spectrum of sales racks, walking toward them with the distinct air of one making his way to his own funeral. As a matter of fact, he was fairly sure that he had faced death with a straighter face on several prior occasions.

Perhaps he should have shelved his pride and requested some further assistance. Despite the denotations on each separate rack advertising a different type of supportive undergarment, they all looked the same to him – scant, flimsy lace in a variety of different colors. Common sense told him that it could not be that simple, but Itachi most definitely did not want to take the time to pick up several and undertake a comprehensive analysis of them. He had no idea what type of scant, flimsy lace that Sakura preferred wearing on her chest, but that couldn't be helped.

After a few minutes of staring at the expansive section and walking around it, unable to shake the feeling of being utterly lost, Itachi simply reached out and plucked one specimen off the racks, trying his best not to actually look at it. The material felt pleasant against his skin, though, and he hastily, and blindly, readjusted his grip so that his fingers only came into contact with the hanger. There was no relief in having that painful experience over with, though; it was only half of the ordeal.

Still somewhat unable to believe that he was actually going through with this, Itachi painstakingly shuffled across the aisle to the large, elaborately varnished and hot-pink painted open container, looking down into it almost anxiously.

…More tiny scraps of colored lace. Excellent.

There was no doubt about it now; from how uncomfortably warm he felt, Itachi was entirely sure that he was tomato-red from the neck of his shirt all the way to his hairline. This was, without doubt, the _only _event that had shattered the icy composure he had built up over the past ten years to such an exorbitant degree.

Letting out a quiet, martyred sigh, Itachi clinically pulled one of his sleeves up to his elbow. Staring at the contents of the container as if they were in danger of growing fangs and biting him would not get him out of this objectionable establishment any faster. With as much dignity as he possessed, the Uchiha turned his head to the side, closed his eyes and bent down, immersing his hand into the container and awkwardly groping around for a few moments.

Once he was fairly sure that he had a matched set – speaking figuratively, of course; he had absolutely no inclination to spend any extra time finding Sakura separates that were actually the same color as one another – Itachi balled both scant pieces of fabric up in one fist and beat a hasty retreat back to the checkout, embracing the opportunity to take a few deep breaths and calm himself down again.

"Did you find everything all right?" the saleslady asked brightly, apparently unfazed by his rather ill countenance, as Itachi somewhat morosely unclenched his fist, allowing the two forlorn-looking items to fall onto the counter.

"…Yes."

"Huh," the young woman commented astutely, snipping the plastic attachments off, and giving Itachi a rather sly look. "Yellow bra – very cute, by the way; just enough padding for a defined silhouette and incredible lift; nice choice, sir – and purple panties…can't say I've seen that particular combination before. You do know that we have some adorable matched sets, if you look around some more?"

The look on her face made it all too clear that she had a decent approximation of the nuances of his selection technique, and Itachi felt his shoulders stiffen defensively. "Yellow and purple are her favorite colors."

"Sure," the female Deidara grinned, obviously very amused by her customer's plight, as she placed the underclothes in another small, offensively pink bag. "Have a nice day, sir. Give my compliments to your sister."

* * *

It took approximately twenty minutes of snuggling up inside the incredibly warm, soft covers, nuzzling her cheek against the pillow, for Sakura's sleep-clouded eyes to finally drift open. She couldn't see anything through the veil of pink that obscured her vision, but groggily, she reached out and pushed her hair back, blinking at the world around her. The first thing she saw was the empty side of the bed which she was now sprawled across – Itachi's side – soon followed by the bright green digital clock display.

Sakura lifted herself up a few inches, feeling an incoherent mumbling sort of noise work its way free of her throat as she ran her fingers through her hair exhaustedly. She had slept for _ages_ – around twelve hours, actually. She'd only woken up for a few minutes earlier in the morning, after hearing Itachi in the shower, and then promptly fallen asleep again. All things considering, she'd had a much better night than she would have expected.

The slightly contented smile faded off her lips as the pink-haired kunoichi scanned the room. Itachi appeared to be…missing. Well, in all honesty, that was no big problem for her. She could only assume that he had gone to get breakfast or something.

The girl fell down on her back again, twisting around in the sheets and closing her eyes. For the past two weeks, she had been sleeping against trees – which had resulted in five hours of an extremely fitful catnap every night, at the extreme best. This, on the other hand, was utter luxury.

Sakura lay there, hugging one of the pillows close to her chest, burying her head in the pillowcase and breathing in and out. She knew that she should get back to thinking or scheming or plotting while she still had the room to herself, but in all honesty, all she wanted to do was lie back and revel in how well-rested she felt. Her recovery was officially complete. Or, well, it _would _be, once she could use her chakra properly again. When she tested a basic incineration technique on a scrap of memo paper on the nearby nightstand, she felt the slightest charge of power simmering underneath her hands, but most of her chakra still appeared to be locked inside by Itachi's technique.

She eased herself back down, lying on her side and turning her back to the door, already deep in thought. How could she break the technique? There had to be a way; it was just, frustratingly enough, escaping her at the moment…

Maybe she drifted back off into a slight doze; she couldn't be quite sure. In any case, though, the sound of the door opening again was enough to startle Sakura into almost falling off the bed. She forced herself to stay still, feeling a blush spreading across her face as the door closed. This was…awkward. She didn't exactly know what to do, and maybe pretending to be asleep was immature, but she really didn't feel up to sitting up and chirping a cheerful 'good morning' into Itachi's undoubtedly daisy-fresh face.

She stayed poker-still, her eyes closed but her nerves hyper-aware of her surroundings. She heard the crinkle of paper near her, and something that might have been along the lines of Itachi placing something unknown on the bed, about a foot away from her.

"I intend to go and see if the hotel offers breakfast at this time of day," he said, almost conversationally. "I will give you some privacy."

Sakura's muscles tensed, and by the time it had registered that he knew that she was faking and he had just told her something, the door had already closed again, and by the time she hastily jackknifed up into a sitting position, Itachi had already left.

Sakura pushed a few stray strands of hair behind her ear, slightly overwhelmed, as she buried her burning face in her hands. Well. _That _had been humiliating. But…what had Itachi been doing for all this time if he hadn't been looking for breakfast? And what had he meant by giving her _privacy_?

It was only then that she noticed the small, neatly folded pile of clothing at her side. It looked like pants and some kind of sweater, and Sakura actually felt her eyes widen in something approaching aghast shock as she grabbed them, sliding out of bed hurriedly and making her way to the bathroom.

She got ready as fast as possible, brushing her teeth with the green-tea flavored toothpaste and spare brush she had found at the side of the sink, and taking a quick, hot shower – before finally wrapping her dried body in a towel and staring at the clothes, unfolding them carefully and observing them.

The sweater was amazing; a rich, dark shade of red that would go perfectly with her hair, and easily the softest, warmest and most luxurious thing she had ever touched. It was just her size, too, and Sakura stroked it almost reverently, setting it on the other side of the expansive vanity. It must have been incredibly expensive, especially if he had gone into one of the stores in the more affluent part of town to buy it. Her eyes widened when she saw what was underneath it, and the pink-haired kunoichi reached out and poked the relatively unfamiliar material, intrigued. Denim. It was an exotic – and, again, expensive – commodity, to say the least. Karin had bought a pair once, last winter, from one of the cheap second-hand stores in the border town. She would have had to be easily the fifth owner of that particular pair, but she had kept them and worn them every day until they had literally fallen apart; they were supposedly _that _warm, comfortable, and practical for kunoichi wear and tear.

Sakura lifted it off the counter, observing it intently, and it was only then that she noticed the two other articles of clothing that fell to the floor, having previously been balled up and meticulously folded into the jeans.

The blush was instantaneous and probably actually stretched from her hairline to the tips of her toes, but, as Sakura fingered her new pair of underclothes, almost fascinated by them, she could feel her shoulders relaxing. This was mortifying, yes, but it was _so _helpful. She didn't know what the hell was going on with the disparate colors, but the bra was exactly the style she favored – and exactly the right size, somewhat bemusingly enough. Well. It wasn't _hard _to pick her size out; she just had to find one of the smallest sizes sold in stores and then get the padded variety to make herself feel better, but how did _Itachi _know that?

Sakura shook the rather disturbing thoughts and possibilities away, as she slid the underwear on – they were perfect and comfortable and clean, and weirdly, _cute _enough to make her want to weep – and turned to the jeans, still struck somewhat speechless with astonishment. All of the stuff had been totally necessary for her, yes, but it was surprising that Itachi had the consideration to go out and buy it, saving her the embarrassment of having to get out of bed and having nothing to wear. She hadn't expected him to be that…considerate. Not to mention the quality, either. If she had known he was going to get her clothes, in all honesty, she would have expected the very rough basics, if not something totally shitty.

Sakura blinked with surprise as she pulled the jeans on, following them with the sweater. She had to indulge in hugging herself for a few moments, though – it was just that soft and comfortable, and besides, it felt so good, to be properly clothed and warm, and she eyed her reflection speculatively. The deepest mystery of all was how Itachi had managed to do this. Karin had bitched for a whole hour after coming back from the border town about how hard it was to find jeans that fit right, but Itachi had just found a pair off the rack that was absolutely perfect for her body. She didn't mean it in a conceited way or anything, but she looked…decent. And, in turn, it made her feel a lot better now. It was a miracle, how simple things like being clean and well-dressed could have such a positive effect on her psyche. It made her feel human again – not vulnerable, not helpless. Like she could take on the world and win.

Sakura smiled a little and exited the bathroom, and narrowly avoided colliding with Itachi, who was wearing his Akatsuki cloak again, and looked like he had been pacing around the room in circles. For a brief moment, they locked eyes and then looked away simultaneously, and she couldn't shake the feeling that they were both equally uncomfortable with one another.

"Um, thanks for…" Sakura managed, gesturing awkwardly at herself. "I really appreciate it."

Itachi nodded uncomfortably, trying not to look at her for too long, and finally, he compromised by fixing his gaze on a point far above her head. They had all been excellent choices on his part; that much was clear. "I am glad that you find them satisfactory." He made himself clear his throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure, as he nodded toward the door. "Breakfast is being served downstairs in the dining area, and we have a mission to attend to."

"Oh…alright." Sakura frowned, somewhat reluctantly falling into step with him as they left the room. She didn't like admitting it, but the simple act of seeing Itachi in that cloak made her a little sick to her stomach. He was acting surprisingly civil to her; surprisingly rational and even sort of kind and considerate, but she could never forget what kind of person he really was, not for even a moment. Just because it wasn't night anymore didn't mean she was safe, and letting her guard down for even a fraction of a second would be foolish. Sure, Itachi bought her pretty clothes, but if what Sasuke had told her was right, he was capable of turning on somebody in half a second. In that way, the black-and-red pattern on the cloak should actually be a good reminder for her – to keep her guard up, no matter what.

Sakura swallowed over her suddenly dry throat. Last night, she had offered him…well, she had offered herself to him physically, in more ways than one. At the time, she thought that would make herself seem like a better purchase, so to speak, but now she regretted it. Any mission that an Akatsuki member would do…she could only imagine how horrific it would be, but she had really backed herself into a corner with this one.

"So," she commented, trying to calm herself down. "Where's…your partner? Kisame?"

Itachi glanced down at her after he finished punching in some buttons into the elevator. "Compassionate leave," he replied shortly.

The question marks must have been written all over her face, because after a brief pause, Itachi continued. "His mother passed away very recently," he elaborated, "and he has three younger siblings."

Well, she hadn't been expecting _that_. Sakura felt her lips part in surprise, but then she simply nodded, unsure of what to say.

They made their way to the dining area silently, and to her relief, the large, dimly lit, and elegant room was more crowded than she had expected. She didn't know how much more solitude with Itachi she could take. He left her side without a word, quietly heading toward one of the tables, but Sakura's eyes were drawn toward the large buffet table, spread with every sort of breakfast food imaginable, and her stomach growled sharply.

As she slunk closer, taking one elegant ceramic plate and some silverware off the nearby table, she couldn't help but scan the room again – the line to get food was quite long, anyway, and…

Sakura's eyes briefly lit on the small team of Cloud shinobi further ahead of her in line, and her shoulders stiffened with intrigue. Cloud neighbored Sound to the north – never mind that the two countries had a markedly antagonistic relationship – so maybe if they were here, Sound couldn't be as far away as she thought. The three men were standing close together, apparently deep in conversation, and, not intending to eavesdrop, the pink-haired kunoichi redirected her gaze to the gleaming butter knife on her plate.

"Are you sure?"

The Cloud shinobi's shocked query rose above the soft, pleasant hum of the other diners' conversations for a moment, and from the corner of her eye, Sakura saw his teammates elbow him hastily. "Shut up," one of them hissed. "It's supposed to be top secret; the Raikage just found out last night, and now he's considering the possibility of invading—"

_Invading_? They had to be talking about Sound. Sakura's knuckles tensed around her plate, and she was careful not to move a muscle. They were being too quiet, and the others in the room were talking too loudly – she just needed a tiny little bit of chakra to…

It took a lot more effort than it would have normally, but she was able to direct the smallest amount of chakra to her inner ears, and the jolt of sensation was almost enough to make her jump. Suigetsu had taught this little trick to her a couple of years ago, but she hadn't used it since then. If used correctly, it would heighten your hearing up to fifty times its usual capacity. She had forgotten exactly how strange that felt…but on the bright side, now she could hear the hushed whispers of the Cloud team as clearly as if they were standing on either side of her and yelling each word over her head.

"So they're sure?" one of the three pressed. "The Otokage is _really _dead?"

The one standing at his right nodded his head gravely. "Yeah – he probably screwed around with a forbidden jutsu that he shouldn't have—"

"No," the team leader interjected, even more quietly, this time, and Sakura kept her eyes fixed on her plate. Her heart felt like it had jumped somewhere into the region of her throat, and her breathing was coming a lot faster and shallower than normal. This felt like a scene out of her worst nightmares. _No. _It couldn't be true. "It was one of his protégés that did it. The young Uchiha, if the reports are right."

Sakura's stomach turned over and her knees very nearly buckled, and she had to grab the edge of the buffet table to steady herself. The Cloud shinobi didn't know about Orochimaru's body-stealing or possession jutsu or whatever – from their point of view, if what they felt was Orochimaru's body was gone, replaced by Sasuke's body…that meant that Sasuke had killed Orochimaru and taken over Sound. Knowing what _she _knew, though…that meant that Sasuke had given in and allowed that monster to possess him. That Sasuke, as she knew him, as she _loved _him, was dead and gone…his body just a puppet to Orochimaru's evil, twisted soul.

When one of the members of the Cloud team looked over at her curiously, she gave him a weak smile and pretended that she had simply lost her balance for a moment. Her hands were shaking so hard the silverware was trembling, and her stomach was such a mass of knots that she felt dangerously close to throwing up.

"So, what's going on?" one of them asked, sounding absolutely enthralled. "Has he set himself up as the new Otokage?"

Sakura braced herself to hear the _yes; _to feel her heart break along the faultline that had been slowly forming over the past few years. Nothing could have prepared her for this, though. Despite her best efforts, she could feel her throat closing over, and tears pricking the inside of her eyelids. She couldn't even find the strength to stand up any longer.

"No," the leader replied softly, shaking his head. "That's the strange part. He and a few of Orochimaru's other young recruits just…left. They're nowhere to be found and nobody knows where they're headed, but if the rumors are right and they've actually left Sound, Sasuke's probably leading his little team on a mission to hunt down his older brother. You two know the history there, right…?"

Sakura's fingers spasmed, and before she could stop herself, her silverware and plate crashed to the richly polished hardwood floor, shattering into a hundred little pieces.

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

Imagining Itachi shopping for Sakura in Forever 21 (sparkly, glittery floors ftw) and Victoria's Secret just made my day while I was writing this. And as always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :)


	6. Adrenaline

_As always, thank you to everybody who was incredible enough to review. :)_

_Chapter Six: Adrenaline_

* * *

About one hundred pairs of eyes turned toward her at once, and Sakura blinked a few times, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. Her hands were still trembling uncontrollably, and one of the Cloud shinobi stepped toward her, reaching a hand toward her shoulder, looking concerned. "Miss, are you all right?"

It took her a moment to remember how to speak, and Sakura finally wrapped her arms around herself, feeling somewhat lost. "Y-yes," she stammered, looking away from him guiltily. "I just – um – spasm."

Instinctively, just to give her body something to do, she started to kneel to pick everything up, but he caught her arm reassuringly, holding her still. "Don't worry. My team will take care of it."

Sakura managed a tiny, uncertain smile. "…Thank you."

She stepped back nervously, and her nerves were in such a fragile state that she actually jumped, an involuntary gasp escaping her throat, when she felt her back collide with somebody's chest. Itachi's hands closed over her shoulders almost protectively, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw him nod politely at the Cloud shinobi before he gently guided her back to their small, circular table. The rest of the people in the room had moved on with their conversations, and they went relatively unnoticed as Itachi pulled out her chair for her, lightly pressing her down into it, before taking the seat across from her.

The shock wasn't wearing off, not even a little, and Sakura glanced down at the table in order to avoid Itachi's searching gaze. Her heart was actually fluttering, and she didn't know what to do with her hands, but she knew that she had to get herself under control. Itachi just _couldn't _know that Sasuke was searching for him; that would ruin everything and potentially put Sasuke's life at even greater risk. What would she do if Itachi found out and then decided that he was going to actively hunt Sasuke down? The thought made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, and the pink-haired kunoichi swallowed over her suddenly paper-dry throat.

"Are you sure that you are quite all right?" Itachi asked detachedly, breaking her out of her temporary reverie, and Sakura nodded her head a little bit too emphatically. His eyes made her uncomfortable – it felt like he could see right through her.

"I'm fine," she lied again, a little distantly, unable to stop herself from thinking about Sasuke. One week…he, Jugo, Suigetsu, and Karin had left one week ago. Had Sasuke interrogated Kabuto-sensei to attempt ascertaining her general whereabouts? If he had, then they should all be somewhere in the area…

Deciding to take her word for it, the lone Akatsuki member silently left their small table, quietly returning to the buffet area. The Cloud team had cleaned up Sakura's shattered plate and moved on somewhere, and one discreet glance behind him confirmed that the younger girl had propped her elbows on the table, burying her face in her hands. Her long hair shielded her from view, but just from her body language, Itachi could tell that she was distinctly overwhelmed, and obviously in shock. The barely concealed look of panic in her eyes made it clear that Sakura had heard something about his younger brother that had been enough to chill her to the bone…but Itachi didn't know what, and that was almost too much to bear.

His movements were stiff and mechanical as he absentmindedly loaded two plates with food, and the worry about Sasuke was nearly making him ill. Had he chosen to submit to Orochimaru's possession technique? That would certainly explain Sakura's demeanor.

Itachi considered it briefly, feeling a leaden weight settle into the pit of his stomach as he automatically turned back toward the table, carefully holding one plate in each hand. When he reached his destination, beginning to set each plate down, Sakura was still folded into herself somewhat, looking small and strangely broken, and every one of his instincts screamed for him to gently take her hand – curled into a tight fist, nearly hidden inside her sleeve – and coax an answer out of her.

It didn't happen, of course. Itachi forced himself to look toward his plate, and they finished the light breakfast in tense silence. Sakura was glad that he didn't press the issue, although she knew that he knew _something_. She let him lead the way out of the hotel – she assumed he knew what he was doing, and she followed at his side, trying her best not to look around in an overly paranoid fashion. Chances were that Sasuke and the others weren't somewhere in this town. She wasn't as accomplished of a tracker as Karin, but she was skilled enough, and she couldn't detect any of their presences.

The warm clothes, and having her stomach full of food, made a huge difference, though. Ignoring the light snowfall, Sakura bit her lip as she quietly followed alongside Itachi, and her mind began to kick into absolute overdrive. Instead of feeling wholly, completely relieved that Sasuke had challenged Orochimaru and actually won and left Sound, the mere thought sent shivers of trepidation down her spine. Of course Sasuke's first order of business was going to be to go on a completely unrelenting search for Itachi. Speaking objectively, the pink-haired kunoichi could bet that she didn't even figure on his list of priorities right now.

Again, she felt that the thought should fill her with relief. Hadn't that been her original plan, to somehow lead Itachi to Sasuke, or somehow contact Sasuke in an attempt to lead _him _to Itachi? The whole glorified-prostitute thing had just been the only ploy she could concoct that would allow her to stay in close proximity to Itachi until that could happen.

…Except that the news that Sasuke had left Sound in pursuit of Itachi, even though it made her plan theoretically so much easier, was doing everything _but _filling her with relief. It sounded crazy and irrational on her part, but Sakura couldn't shake the feeling – she had spent one evening and night with Itachi. She'd met him less than twenty-four hours ago. They had exchanged a limited amount of conversation, and yet, a couple of very awkward and uncomfortable kisses that could barely even be called that. Strangely enough, though, even after those comparatively tiny sixteen freaking hours, she felt as if she knew Itachi a hell of a lot better than she had before. Before, all she knew of him was the ominous tidbits of information that Sasuke occasionally disclosed when he was in one of those rare moods.

In these past sixteen hours, she had found that Itachi was actually not what she had expected. In some ways, he was better. He was surprisingly polite and could even be called considerate, and he wasn't overtly threatening or intimidating. More importantly, last night, he hadn't taken advantage of the gross imbalance of power between them when he had been perfectly capable – in some twisted way, even justified – of doing so. In all that Sasuke had ever told her about his brother, he had refrained to mention that Itachi might even stand the possibility of possessing one less-than-wantonly-cruel-or-sadistic bone in his body.

…In some ways, though, Itachi was worse. No mere _words _that Sasuke could use would ever describe the way her nerves were set on edge; brittle to the point where they were ready to snap, whenever Itachi did so much as look her in the eye. Nothing he could have said would have prepared her for the fact that whenever she saw something between Itachi's long fingers, like the chopsticks from last night or the butter knife from this morning, she would imagine a kunai in its place, and have to exercise a conscious effort not to flinch back.

Sasuke would never have even found a way to articulately describe the unparalleled sense of dread that stole over her whenever Itachi was close enough to touch – or the way that she had felt last night, when she had been standing with her back to him and he had been stroking the curve of her waist…that, if she closed her eyes for even a fraction of a second, she could open them to find his hands locked around her throat, squeezing every square inch of air out.

Despite the warmth of the sweater, Sakura shivered, crossing her arms over her chest protectively as she kept walking, unconsciously distancing herself from the elder Uchiha.

Her fears from a few weeks ago were still present, and now even more pronounced…about the fact that if Sasuke confronted Itachi, he would never live through the fight. Itachi was so callous; so remorseless – the coolly casual way he had mentioned 'wanting to keep tabs' on his younger brother was more than enough to make Sakura grit her teeth. Aside from the obvious, that his tone had betrayed no ounce of remorse or guilt or even _feeling _towards the aforementioned younger brother, whose life he had destroyed…it still freaked her out that she didn't think it had been an empty threat. That maybe Itachi had somehow been watching them while they had been in Sound…while they had thought that they were safe.

Almost every single one of Sakura's instincts told her that, if – _when _– the time came, Itachi wouldn't hesitate to kill Sasuke. She had faith in Sasuke's abilities, but the gap between the Uchiha brothers was still too wide. She didn't know why Itachi had slaughtered the rest of his family; she couldn't possibly attempt to analyze the sick, twisted mind of a sadistic killer, but she couldn't think of any reason why he would want to spare Sasuke. Or why he had chosen to save Sasuke for last. Or what his objectives were, in killing everyone else and leaving himself alive.

Sakura couldn't help the way she sighed aloud, utterly frustrated, and lifted both hands to her head to briefly massage her temples. Her sleeves masked her peripheral vision, or else she would have seen the distinctly concerned look that Itachi directed her way.

She couldn't let it happen. She couldn't let Sasuke die. She would have no hope of talking him out of a confrontation with Itachi, especially now that there was a chance of them coming across each other, but…she did have a chance of averting that confrontation altogether.

Sakura directed a discreet look down at her hands. Itachi would have to unlock her chakra when they finally reached wherever they were going to be assigned the mission, if he had any hope of her assisting him in any way. She would be almost useless in this state. And hopefully, when he released the binding technique on her chakra, she would have some kind of opportunity during the mission to take him out.

The pink-haired kunoichi scowled down at the snow-covered, icy streets. Screw that. If all else failed, she would _make _an opportunity. And if she ended up getting hurt…if Itachi ended up taking her with him in a final act of cruel spite…well, that was the price she was willing to pay.

"Sakura."

Itachi's quiet tone startled her out of her thoughts, and Sakura glanced back towards him sharply – ugh, the uncanny timing and the strange expression in his eyes could almost have convinced her that he knew what she was thinking. But he nodded towards one of the side streets, and belatedly, she realized that she had drifted off on her own, walking past the indicated street. They had reached the very outskirts of town, right near the forest, and as far as she could see, there was only one building down that street. It didn't look like a house; if anything, it reminded her of the contractor's offices that she had visited on her repeated attempts to get a mission or an assignment.

He waited until they got closer, before glancing down at her, his hand on the doorknob. "Wait here."

Needless to say, Sakura wasn't used to taking orders from anyone – she barely remembered what it was like to be in Konoha, with Kakashi-sensei as Team Seven's squad leader. Orochimaru never sent her or the others on missions, and Kabuto-sensei never really told her what to do. His style of instruction was quite…unique. Still, she stopped obediently, taking the few moments of privacy in order to scan her surroundings carefully. Some instinct told her that they would be heading into the forest; she couldn't imagine what business an Akatsuki member would have in a peaceful, unassuming town like this. True, it was more affluent than most, with a large amount of extremely high-end jewelers basing their businesses there, but from what Sasuke had told her; mere stealing was not something that the Akatsuki engaged in.

For the second time that day, Sakura directed a small amount of chakra to her inner ears. It was just about the only thing she could do, what with her chakra still being locked, but it suited her purposes fairly well. It didn't work as well as it had earlier, because she suspected that the outside of the small building was made out of solid stone and that Itachi and the contractor were probably a few rooms in, anyway, but it was enough. She could just barely hear a few snatches of conversation, though, and Sakura frowned in concentration.

"…_left the Rock village six weeks ago, and I'm fairly sure—"_

A short pause.

"_Rumors…taking refuge somewhere in the forest separating the shinobi village from the rest of the…"_

"_Strong Earth-type chakra, which is rare in this area, so if you know what to look for—" _

The missing links in the conversation were quite obvious – she could only hear the contractor's voice; Itachi was much quieter.

"_Yes, quite dangerous. I do not doubt your skills, but chances are that you will need two to bring him down. His chakra reserves are massive."_

A longer pause, this time.

"…_The hardest part will be tracking him down. He's old, but fast and stealthy—"_

Sakura blinked, her focus lapsing and her chakra wavering for a moment. Who were they tracking down, and why? An _old _person? They were targeting a defenseless, innocent senior citizen? What the _hell_?

By the time she realized her error and started properly listening again, she could only pick up one word. She thoughtthat she might have caught the tail end of something along the lines of 'demon host,' but that couldn't have been right. It didn't make any sense.

"—_monkey…tailed beast—_"

It was almost at that exact instant that Sakura detected Itachi's chakra signature getting closer – they must be walking back to the door while talking, and she jerked back as far as she could, feeling her face flush with obvious confusion. What the—_monkey_? They were hunting down a freaking _monkey_?

_Don't be irrational, Sakura, _she scolded herself, wrapping her arms in her sleeves and giving the forest a furtive glance. They were probably tracking a shinobi who posed some kind of threat to the interests of the Akatsuki – whatever those might be – and who happened to have some kind of highly dangerous, carnivorous monkey summon, or something of the like. And for some reason, the words 'demon host' and 'tailed beast' wouldn't leave her head. Instinct told her that they had some kind of significance, but…

Before she could give it any further thought, Itachi slipped out of the door, nodding politely at the contractor that she couldn't quite see, before joining her at the outskirts of the massive forest. Without a word to her, he started walking into it, and Sakura scowled at his back, before quickening her pace to catch up. Perhaps it was the knowledge that soon she would have her chakra back, but she felt just a little bit more confident around him. "So," she said pointedly. "What are we looking for?"

Itachi glanced back over his shoulder at her, and she was a little surprised to see how guarded his expression was. Roshi, the jinchiruki – the demon host – of the Four-Tailed Monkey…needless to say, he would have preferred having Kisame at his side in this situation, but he had no doubt that Sakura could hold her own as well. Any shinobi trained in Sound would be formidable, and Sakura had a very specialized, unique, and lethal skill set. It was tempting to be honest with her, so that she would know what they would be facing…but he remembered whom her genin teammate was. Naruto Uzumaki, the Kyuubi host. Chances were that Sakura didn't know that; it wasn't common knowledge to the younger generation, but she knew of the Akatsuki only what Sasuke had told her, and Itachi was not sure if Sasuke was aware of his organization's overarching objective. It wasn't worth taking the risk.

"…Not 'what,'", he corrected, at length. "Whom."

Sakura chose not to press the issue, sensing she wouldn't get far, and instead looking around covertly. They were deep in the forest now, enough so that she could turn around and not see anything but a seemingly endless swath of skeletal, snow-covered trees. The ground was covered in at least a foot of snow and ice banks, and the stark emptiness was a little off-putting. The forest was deathly silent; the sky above them an ominous shade of slate-gray. She and Itachi stood out like sore thumbs, and they were just _walking _like normal civilians, but he seemed to know what he was looking for, and where he was going.

After a few minutes of quietly observing him through narrowed eyes, Sakura could easily observe something that Sasuke had never told her – from the intent concentration visible in Itachi's eyes, which had bled red with the light of the Sharingan, and the way he was scanning their surroundings, it was obvious that he was an expert tracker…which only made her more worried for Sasuke. If Itachi happened to get the faintest trace of Sasuke's chakra signature—

Sakura shook the thought away determinedly. Karin was the best tracker she knew, but from what she could see right now, it appeared that Itachi matched or even surpassed her in skill. But Sasuke wasn't the issue here; whatever unknown element they were looking for seemed to be perpetually one step ahead of them.

She didn't know how long that they walked like that, with her holding her breath and rather vindictively watching as Itachi became more and more frustrated. It was extraordinarily subtle, yes – she wouldn't even have known he was expressing any kind of emotion if it wasn't for her experiences with Sasuke. It was uncanny and it made her skin crawl a little, how strangely similar the two of them were in this aspect, even though they hadn't had any real interaction with one another since Sasuke had been, what, eight? It started with the way their stride would slow just a tiny bit, and then how they would reach back and rub the back of their neck every ten minutes or so. Sasuke would ruffle the hair at the back of his head irritably, while Itachi gripped the base of his ponytail and tugged on it slightly. After they repeated that sequence of events about three times over the course of fifteen minutes of utter silence, they both gave this soft, barely-audible sigh, stopping in their tracks for a fraction of a second.

It felt like it took forever for Itachi to reach that breaking point, and when he finally came to a stop, Sakura nearly crashed into his back. She took advantage of the momentary pause to quickly situate herself in front of him, hastily holding out her wrists, the delicate insides facing upwards. Looking him in the eye would probably only cause her to lose her nerve, so she stared at his chest – which she was roughly eye-level with, anyway, but the pink-haired kunoichi could practically feel the incredulous look that he was directing at the top of her head.

"I can be useful too, you know," Sakura pointed out, trying her best to keep her voice even. "I'm a decent tracker. You might be able to feel the strength of chakra signatures, but Kabuto-sensei taught me how to track heartbeats. You can mask your chakra, but no matter how powerful of a shinobi you are and how well you can conceal any other trace of your presence, you can't stop your heart from beating."

There were a few long moments of silence between them, and Sakura detachedly focused her gaze on the silver fastening on Itachi's Akatsuki cloak. The very top of her head only came up to his collarbone.

His hands were as cold as ice where his fingers lightly slipped under her chin, forcing her to look up at him. Despite her best efforts to the contrary, Sakura's breath caught in her throat, and she had to fight the reflexive instinct to lash out with a punch, instead meeting Itachi's crimson gaze fearlessly.

…Whenever Sasuke touched her, even during contact that could be considered fairly intimate, it felt just brief and perfunctory. She was just beginning to realize that there was something very different about Itachi and the way he did it– something strangely warmer and more lingering, but not in a creepy sort of way, if that made sense – but nevertheless, it was enough to set her nerves on edge in a way that Sakura couldn't tell was pleasant or not. Part of her wanted to flinch away, and part of her felt like leaning a little closer. Maybe in anticipation of whatever he was going to say; maybe not. She knew that she was going to speak a moment before he did, and she swallowed unconsciously, unable look away from him.

"Why," – Itachi's fingers moved a little, trailing down her throat and brushing against the side of her neck, and Sakura gulped again, refusing to break his gaze – "…should I trust you, Sakura?"

Where Sasuke was bold and assertive, bordering on aggressive and sometimes volatile, Itachi was soft-spoken and almost scarily in control of himself, and Sakura felt herself unconsciously lowering her voice, moderating her tone to match his, although she wasn't sure why.

In the Academy, when she was about eleven or so, they had classes on survival in the wild. The class had been conducted in summer, and one of the lessons had been on how to come out of a confrontation with a dangerous rogue element – whether it was a puma or an unstable missing-nin – alive.

"_Above all, show no fear," _Iruka-sensei had lectured them sternly. "_Try and make yourself bigger than you are. Never, ever turn your back to them or expose any kind of vulnerability. Even if you aren't, try to portray yourself as an equal. Don't let them see you as easy prey."_

Weird as it was, it was this lesson, out of all the things she had learned as a kunoichi over the past three years, that stuck with her the most. "…Because I give you my word that I won't do anything stupid," Sakura responded calmly, looking Itachi square in the eye.

He studied her for what felt like an eternity, before finally, slowly pulling back, and in the next second, the pressure that had been slowly and steadily building up inside her since last night just…vanished, and Sakura felt all the breath leave her body in a long sigh. Disbelievingly, she reached up, massaging her upper arms. He had released the technique in full, and it was a dizzyingly wonderful feeling. She felt whole again, and the rush of exhilaration it produced was enough to make her skin flush with excitement. She could do it right now, if she wanted to.

_Easy, Sakura, _the more rational part of her mind cautioned herself. This would require intelligence and finesse, and her acting had to be flawless. She absolutely could _not _pull a Sasuke right now.

Sakura tilted her head back, glancing over her shoulder at Itachi, who was observing her with an unreadable expression on his face. He was standing…really strangely close, but his hands hung non-threateningly at his sides. "I'm engaging the technique now," she told him, feeling her heart skip a beat. A small part of her couldn't believe she was doing this, and her stomach twisted up in nervous knots.

Itachi inclined his head in acknowledgement of her words, and with three simple hand seals, her world changed. This was a creepy technique; there was no other way to describe it. Kabuto-sensei used to make her practice it by locking the two of them into a large, pitch-black dungeon even below the basement, and cloak his chakra completely, leaving her to stagger around in the dark, trying to find him as quickly and quietly as possible just by the sound of his heartbeat.

It was like having her hearing and senses amplified times one thousand – she could actually her heart beating; loud and strong and steady and a little faster than normal; like a taiko drumbeat that was a little off-tempo. Off to the right a little bit, underneath a snowbank, she could hear the soft cluster of several small hearts beating…a rabbit warren, most likely.

And then—

Sakura felt her features twist into a confused frown before she even fully realized why, and she froze, staring off into the distance as her muscles stiffened. Had she done something wrong? Had one of her concentrations of chakra in the ox seal been off?

Itachi was standing at her back, but…something about his heartbeat wasn't right. It was strangely labored, so much that he should be panting for breath, and that every breath would be an extraordinary struggle. Not to mention, it was severely arrhythmic – to an extent that it was probably an error in jutsu execution on her part. After all, it didn't make sense at all. It started out too fast, but then it skipped a beat, _actually _skipped a beat, and then it slowed down too much, before somewhat sluggishly returning to a somewhat proper pattern, but—

Itachi was the picture of health. Aside from his cold hands – poor circulation – he looked like he was in perfect physical condition; no chronically, severely ill person could have that kind of muscle tone. His breathing felt calm and even and regular; not in line with his occasionally faltering heartbeat. And she had only seen severe arrhythmia once before; in a terminally ill prisoner at the Sound base, but that man had been suffering from a severe heart condition, and once it degenerated enough, he started coughing horribly and constantly as a result of that. Coughing up blood. She hadn't yet heard Itachi do as much as clear his throat.

Not to mention, there was something else that was markedly strange. Maybe the irregularity was caused by the fact that she actually couldn't sense Itachi as well as she sensed herself, or the warren of rabbits – even though he was right behind her. There was something inside him blocking her reading; some kind of chakra, most likely, that was serving as…a shield of sorts? That only compounded her confusion. There was either something wrong, _very _wrong, with her technique…or there was something very wrong with him.

"_Sakura."_

His sharper-than-usual voice jolted her out of her reverie, and belatedly, Sakura realized that it probably wasn't the first time Itachi had tried to get her attention. She spun around to find him giving her a distinctly nonplussed look, and they stared at each other for a few awkward moments. She couldn't help how her gaze drifted to his chest – his heart – and, noticing her attention, almost defensively, he lifted one hand there, curling it into a fist and turning away from her somewhat.

The small action made her shoulders stiffen with tension…he was obviously uncomfortable. It was the first time she had seen Itachi show any real emotion (had she been on to something?), and for a moment, Sakura was lost as to what to do, and it was a struggle to regain her focus. She glanced away hastily, somewhat afraid as to how he would react if she really had picked up some sort of weakness, as she jerked her head off to the side. With the exception of herself and Itachi and the occasional rabbit warrens under the snowbanks, she sensed something several miles off to the right. It wasn't hard to pick up on it, because it was the only other human heartbeat in her range. If what the contractor had said about the target hiding out in this forest was right…that was probably him. So, the target was several miles to the right; the east. She had to lead Itachi near the target, as near as possible, but not near enough to cross paths for more than the briefest of moments. From what she sensed, the foreign heartbeat was traveling slowly and steadily along a set path, which was really close to…a large, empty space. Probably a clearing of some sort, which would suit her purposes beautifully.

Composing herself again, Sakura nodded to the east. "There's something there," she said abruptly, narrowing her eyes and looking into the distance. "Definitely human, and the extensive chakra fortification means that it's not a civilian."

Itachi raised an eyebrow, somewhat impressed by the clarity and uniqueness of her tracking method. In all of his studies, he had never heard about or encountered a similar technique before – perhaps if he had, he would have known not to allow Sakura to use something like that while near him. He had confidence that the self-imposed chakra barrier around himself worked extraordinarily well in suppressing his numerous symptoms (he only released it once a day, for the sake of his chakra reserves)…but he had no idea whether it would have been any resistance to Sakura's technique. At the particular moment when she had stared at him like that; the chakra barrier had been strained to the limits in order to suppress the coughing fit that threatened. The unnatural stress on his body had made his heart beat so fast that he had felt lightheaded, and the strangely knowing way she had looked at him…

For the first time in years, Itachi actually felt a shiver of trepidation down his spine. Sakura had given him reason to trust her with the full use of her chakra, but he could not forget that she could still prove to be a danger to his interests in other ways. She looked deceptively harmless, with her pretty pink hair and large, expressive eyes and petite frame, but he had to remember not to underestimate her and the havoc that she could wreak on his best-laid plans; to remember the tightrope that they were walking. Despite the capacity for Sakura to lead Sasuke to him in time, this was still unduly risky, and for a moment, he could not remember why he was taking such a large chance.

"Very well," Itachi responded brusquely. "You may lead the way."

_Predictable enough. _She would have lost quite a bit of respect for him if he had turned his back to her for even a second, so even though it made her wary, Sakura continued on in front of him, her teeth gritting together and her mind working as fast as possible. "Are we aiming to kill the target or incapacitate him?" she asked innocently.

"…Incapacitate. We should deliver him to the Akatsuki headquarters alive."

Sakura felt her eyes widen in surprise. That was strange, but it made her plan easier.

She had the advantage now. She and Itachi had both flawlessly masked their chakra and concealed themselves with identical genjutsu, and as the target had his cloaked too, _she _was the only one who could detect him. Sakura could bet that he was using a concealment genjutsu as well; they were close enough together that she should be able to see at least some trace of his presence, but for as far as the eye could see, she and Itachi appeared to be alone.

So. Not close enough yet.

She waited a few more minutes, until she felt Itachi's step slow a little bit, and the palpable increase of tension in his system. They were now as close to the concealed target as she dared, and she gave it maybe a minute before whoever it was caught onto their presence and got out of there as fast as possible. "We're close," Sakura whispered, at the same instant that she swiftly engaged a genjutsu-concealed shadow clone. It was completely invisible, and with a few sharp adjustments of her own chakra, it re-materialized a distance away – right on the tail of the real target.

Two things happened in the same instant. Itachi jerked back convulsively, stunned by the sudden materialization of that sheer volume of chakra – enough so that it fit exactly with the given profile of the Four-Tails' host – and the equally startled _actual _host of the Four-Tails was so shocked by the sudden appearance of the matching chakra that his concealment genjutsu slipped, momentarily revealing a small, wizened-looking man, with chocolate-brown skin and flaming red hair.

In the next second, he vanished; flash-stepping off in a display of speed unlike anything she had ever seen, and Sakura's heart jumped into her throat as, at the same moment, Itachi sent a kunai flying at the back of his cloak, obviously intended to slow the man down by pinning the loose fabric to the bark of the nearest tree.

But he was too slow – actually, unbelievably, a fraction of a second too slow, and the kunai embedded itself hilt-deep in the trunk of a tree, the target flying off a hair ahead of it. If Sakura had the time to stop and think about it, she would probably realize how strange that was; how very…suspicious. Sasuke had once said that Itachi was flawless at hitting any moving target at any given speed. Hell, _she _probably could have hit the guy if she had been armed.

But she didn't have time to stop and think about it, and before Itachi even realized that something was amiss, Sakura was across the small clearing, breathing hard, pulling the kunai out of the tree with surprisingly little effort, and throwing it back at him in less time than it took him to blink.

Shock slowed his reflexes for the briefest of moments, and even as Itachi flickered out of view, the blade sliced an inch of fabric off the shoulder of his Akatsuki cloak. If he had been just a blink of an eye slower, it would have impaled his heart.

Before Itachi even fully materialized again, back toward where he had last seen Sakura, a solid impact collided with his chest, stealing all the breath from his body and making him gasp in a sole moment of unguarded pain before he stumbled backward. When his eyes focused again, he saw Sakura in front of him, her bright green gaze narrowed with what looked like pure, unadulterated hatred. Her right hand was curled into a tight, white-knuckled fist, and belatedly, he realized that she had punched him in the solar plexus, hard. The fifteen-year-old kunoichi was the first person in more than eight years who had actually gotten close enough to land a physical strike on him.

The opportunity to finally take some measure of revenge on him was one that she more than welcomed, and even though she was still shocked that she had actually landed a hit on him, Sakura drew her fist back as far as it would go for another, aiming at his jaw. But then Itachi was gone, and she stumbled; it was too late to pull the punch, and the relentless momentum carried her forward, making her fist collide with the rough bark with the tree instead.

The pain was instantaneous, shooting all the way up her arm to her shoulder – something cracked – and her knuckles were suddenly raw and bleeding. Nevertheless, Sakura spun around, panicked, her eyes darting around the clearing as fast as they could. Itachi had totally disappeared from view. _Shit. _She hadn't anticipated the punch – she had wanted to end things as fast as possible with a heart-stopping jutsu, but stupidly, her emotions had taken over, and she had acted on pure impulse.

Before the thought had even finished forming in her head, she felt something flicker behind her, and Itachi's ice-cold grip on the back of her neck, holding her so hard she couldn't breathe and she would bruise; his thumb threatening to push down on a pressure point that would knock her into instant unconsciousness. He probably assumed that she would freeze as an instinctive defensive mechanism – struggling would just further the strangulation process – but maybe it was the _only _good thing that came out of Kabuto-sensei's and Sound's ruthless, brutal training – but her first instinct was never to defend herself. It was to retaliate, at any cost.

The idea occurred to her in a window of time even shorter than a split second, and Sakura slammed the heavy, three-inch leather heel of her right boot into Itachi's foot, grinding down mercilessly and simultaneously slamming her elbow back into his ribs, and she heard his muffled hiss of frustration as he reflexively relaxed his grip around her neck. Before she could take advantage of that, though, he grabbed her arm in a vice-like grip and twisted it behind her back, mercilessly wrenching her already-sore shoulder in the process, and she heard and felt something slide out of place. Sakura hadn't wanted to say anything at any point during their confrontation, because if she did, she would run the risk of revealing any weakness or providing for lapse in focus, but the pink-haired kunoichi couldn't hold back the sharp gasp of pain that worked its way free of her throat. She couldn't form any hand seals as long as Itachi could keep her hands apart, and oh, _kami_, she thought that he might have almost dislocated her shoulder.

Itachi pulled her up roughly, still keeping her right arm pinned behind her back. Sakura's head fell backwards limply, resting against his collarbone, and he could see that she was deathly pale, and had screwed her eyes shut tightly. He doubted she knew it, but her breath was coming in sharp gasps. Remorse was a sharp blade in his side – he had hurt her; nearly dislocated her shoulder, from the look of it; and he hadn't wanted to. This was the first fight in years in which he had actually been forced to harm an opponent; the first one where he actually had to engage in hand-to-hand combat and not worked his way out of the situation by utilizing a sleeping genjutsu or knocking an opponent into unconsciousness. But Sakura wasn't fighting according to his predictions. Every move was calculated not out of impersonal logic and strategy and the need for self-preservation, but out of pure passion and emotion. She was relentless, and unlike others he had faced, Sakura would be content with never walking away from here alive…if she could only take him with her.

The realization was a cold, unpleasant one, and Itachi made himself stroke her hair as if he was completely detached from the entire situation, almost gently twining his fingers into the long, soft locks and pulling her head back inch by inch, exposing the vulnerable column of her neck as he twisted her arm a little bit more. Sakura whimpered, sounding like she was experiencing several kinds of pain and fear, and Itachi had to force himself to keep holding on, while engaging the Sharingan in an attempt to mask the effect she was having on him. She was a dangerous person to have around, in more ways than one – but he had to frighten her enough now to ensure that she wouldn't risk anything like this in the future. It pained him, but it had to be done.

"What happened to not doing anything stupid, Sakura?" Itachi inquired softly, the tone of his voice chilling her to the bone. He broke her name into three slow syllables, practically caressing each, and it made her shiver.

Sakura willed herself to open her eyes. The sky was an even darker shade of gray now. "Loophole. It wasn't stupid," she forced out, and she couldn't help but think of Sasuke and the fact that if she didn't shape up, she would die right here, and her eyes stung with the repressed, unwanted tears. "It's _justice, _you goddamn—"

Her voice broke, the raw emotion startling him, and the momentary lapse was all that Sakura needed to twist herself free, the dizzying, throbbing agony in her entire right shoulder and arm be damned. She lashed out with a rapid uppercut from her uninjured arm, blinded by pain, but Itachi countered the strike easily, and they continued the brief, rapid-fire spar for a few minutes. Distantly, it came to Sakura's attention that he was never on the offensive – he only defended against her attacks.

But then her back slammed against the trunk of a tree, and she groaned aloud – no wonder their fight had been so one-sided; Itachi was simply _maneuvering _her.

And now he had her right where he wanted her.

She was panting aloud; gasping for breath, and Itachi was mildly surprised to realize that he was actually breathing a little harder than usual as well. He acted quickly; taking her wrists and pressing them back tightly against the tree, engaging one of the vine-binding jutsu he had copied from Kurenai on his last trip to Konoha in order to secure them there, so that there would be no chance of Sakura twisting away.

Sakura's immediate reaction was to lunge forward anyway, attempting to smash her forehead against his own, and it was only Itachi's inhumanly quick reflexes that spared him the painful retaliation. He had never seen anything like it; she just wouldn't stop. The few teams of hunter-nin from Konoha who had actually managed to engage him in combat had the good sense to retreat after a little while, and those were grown, fully-trained ANBU – not aggressive, solitary, borderline suicidal young kunoichi.

She was not going to make this easy for him.

Itachi didn't do it with as much force as he could have, but still, when he grabbed a few locks of her tangled hair, pulling her forward sharply and then using that leverage to slam her head back against the tree, Sakura moaned aloud, her knees buckling for a moment. He needed to subdue her long enough to get his point across; that much was clear, but, in all honesty…as an older brother to somebody her age; as a decent, violence-abhorring human being…the sound actually made him wince.

Itachi masked the involuntary physical gesture by getting closer, placing a hand on her cheek and almost tenderly caressing the contours of her right cheekbone with his thumb. Sakura's eyes had been closed tightly against the pain – he thought she might be bleeding from a cut on her scalp – but she glared up at him, jerking away as best as she could. "Get away from me," the pink-haired kunoichi hissed softly, venomously, figuring she no longer had anything to lose. "Freak. Sociopath. _Murderer._"

Maybe it was her imagination, but for a fraction of a second, his hand stilled.

But then the momentary lapse was gone, and Sakura gasped as she felt the same icy iron vines around her wrists creep up to her hair, pulling it down and literally forcing her to look up at him, and even though the pressure hurt her neck, she met his gaze defiantly.

For somebody like him, somebody trained to repress _everything _– every single feeling, emotion, original thought, sense of morality – since the age of four years old, it was almost enough to make him want to release her, as if burned. There was so much there; passion in every flavor. Hatred and defiance and unimaginably fierce loyalty and devotion and—

Something entirely foreign stirred in the depths of Itachi's chest; something unpleasantly scorching and unfamiliar, and before he even fully realized what he was doing, he had pushed her back against the tree even harder, and Sakura couldn't help but flinch as he leaned dangerously close to her. Her hands were restrained, so she couldn't do anything about the way his hands wrapped around her neck, thumbs tracing the delicate line of her jawbone.

"So much love," Itachi whispered icily, sounding colder than the winter around her; each word broken off like it had been sliced by a razor-sharp icicle. "So much love, all wrapped up in such a foolish little girl."

Sakura turned her head to the side sharply, trying to avoid his gaze, but Itachi countered the movement. "Tell me, Sakura, since you _love _Sasuke so deeply – would you die for him?" he asked, with a kind of acidity that she couldn't comprehend.

She had a feeling that there was a right and a wrong answer, but Sakura narrowed her eyes up at him fearlessly. "I would," she said, through gritted teeth. "And I'm not embarrassed to admit it, because it's a hell of a lot more than _you _would do for him – your own flesh and blood – you twisted, fucked up—"

Just like that, Itachi's hand was at her throat, holding her still – pressing down but not enough to be painful, and Sakura gasped over her own words. "Do not speak of things that you don't understand," he told her, his voice so quiet that she could barely hear it.

It took a good few moments for Itachi to regain control, and a conscious effort for him to even attempt slowing his heartbeat again. His hands were shaking, his throat was tight, and more disturbingly, his chakra shield was wavering considerably as a direct result of the stress. He could feel Sakura's pulse beneath his fingertips; her heart was racing at a speed that could easily match his.

"Would Sasuke do the same for you?" he inquired pointedly, already knowing that both of them knew the answer to that question very well.

This time, when Sakura turned away from him, Itachi leaned forward, almost caging her in with his arms. "He would never," he told her quietly, ruthlessly, and for the first time, he reveled in the way she flinched back from his words.

He had thought about this before; he knew every aspect of Sasuke as only siblings could understand one another. But if the roles were reversed, what would Sasuke have done? He and his brother were different in many fundamental ways…and damn it, he loved Sasuke, but he was not blind to his younger brother's true nature. Sasuke would _never _have done for him what he had done for Sasuke. He would have chosen to cut his losses and do the easier thing for himself; to simply kill every single member of the clan and make it a clean break, before removing himself somewhere far away from Konoha and continuing on with his life. Maybe it was his fault – a guilt that Itachi had carried with him for years – but Sasuke didn't know how to care for others; how to be compassionate; how to feel anything but hatred and an overwhelming, mind-twisting desire for revenge.

He had never intended that. Itachi had thought that what he had done would actually do the opposite, for Sasuke. It was supposed to teach him to make bonds with those he had left and hold on to them and cherish them. To teach him how to trust others and love others, because they were the ones who would support him and work alongside him until he was ready to go (not _alone_) and fulfill his goal.

The Sasuke that he knew had likely done nothing to deserve Sakura's _love. _He didn't understand the significance of it. He probably didn't even want it; probably didn't even consider it as anything more than an unnecessary hindrance and encumbrance. He probably broke her heart in several small ways every day.

He had probably chosen to give himself over to Orochimaru instead of realizing how lucky he was.

Itachi hadn't realized that he whispered the last words aloud, his strained voice somewhat muffled by the cover of Sakura's long hair, until he literally felt her freeze, all of her muscles tensing up.

Itachi felt his eyes widen a fraction of an inch in a rare moment of unguarded emotion, as he realized what he had done.

--And that was when Sakura slammed her right knee up into his groin with (what felt like) enough force and chakra behind it to easily split a solid cinderblock in half.

In the next instant, the deadly, precise chakra scalpels that she had formed and carefully been hiding for the entirety of her little conversation with Itachi sliced through the dark chakra of the restraints around her wrists and twined into her hair, freeing her, and before Sakura even had time to think it through coherently, she was already on top of him.

The tackle sent both of them flying a few feet, and finally, Itachi found himself blinking up through a gaze that had gone completely cloudy with excruciating pain.

There had been a two to three second delay before the agony set in, in which he _could _have retaliated, but instead, he had been overcome by utter, paralyzing dread. All his mind kept throwing up at him was decade-old memories of one particular conversation with Shisui, in infinitely better times. It had been about an hour after Shisui had been pitted against Hana Inuzuka in some kind of fighting demonstration, and the other girl – only a chunin – had won by kneeing him in the groin.

"_Was it really that bad?" Itachi had asked his cousin dubiously, as Shisui slumped over the kitchen table, sadly sipping from a pitcher of chilled green tea with honey and ginseng that Itachi's mother had left for them. He had sympathy for his best friend, yes, but from his understanding, the incident had occurred a little over an hour ago, and Shisui's complexion still had a faintly greenish tinge to it. _

_Shisui directed a baleful glare at him. "It's horrible. It's agony. It's the worst, most excruciating pain any man can ever experience." He paused, in order to take a long, mournful draft from his glass of tea. "…You better hope it doesn't ever happen to you. You're way too delicate to handle something like that. Hell, you'd probably puke."_

"…_shut up, Shisui."_

At the time, he had thought Shisui had been exaggerating. Evidently not. Itachi had never experienced such an ignominious assault before, but…it was, actually, much, _much_ worse than his best friend had described it. At least he had managed to preserve his pride enough to refrain from vomiting, though.

Still, there were much more pressing matters at hand.

Sakura finally became aware that she was panting harshly, practically gasping for breath, as she felt both of them collide with the ground. They had landed in a snowbank, Itachi beneath her, and even though she knew that her attack would have put him out of commission for at least a few minutes, she moved as fast as she could; straddling his hips, before grabbing his – soft, silky – hair roughly and yanking his head back so much that it would probably hurt his neck.

The summoning jutsu only took a few more moments, and then the handle of Itachi's discarded kunai was cold in her hands; the razor-sharp point of the blade trembling a little as Sakura began to lower it to the visible pulse point on his carotid artery.

It was only then that Itachi even opened his eyes again. It was a surprisingly languid movement, Sakura decided, feeling strangely removed from the entire situation, considering that he was probably as close to losing his life as he ever had been before. She could feel his labored breathing in the erratic rise and fall of his chest and she was sure that the adrenaline was coursing through his veins as much as it was for her, but he made no move to dislodge her.

Their eyes were locked, and she didn't know what to think. Her mind was a mess. Even when Sakura had been a little twelve-year-old genin from Konoha, she had hated the idea of killing – and that was back when it had just been an abstract idea. Being a medic-nin only made it worse. She knew exactly how every single one of the hundred ways she could kill someone with ninjutsu would cause fatal disruptions in the human internal system. She knew the gory details of how one stab to a critical area could—

She choked, turning away abruptly, even as she tightened her grip on the kunai.

_Sasuke glanced over at her, taking in the shadows beneath her eyes dispassionately. "You didn't sleep well."_

_Sakura gave him a one-shouldered shrug, falling into step next to him. "Bad dreams, you know," she replied offhandedly, part of her hoping she wouldn't get a condescending glance in return. Her nerves were already on edge enough – no matter how many times she had the same nightmare about Orochimaru's possession technique, it never ceased to have a horrible effect on her. She gave him a sidelong glance, noting how blank his expression was; the total lack of empathy there. Once, a while ago, in response to one of her earlier inquiries, Sasuke had coolly informed her that he never had bad dreams. "…What do you dream about, then, Sasuke-kun?" _

_It took him a few moments to reply, and he stuck his hands in his pockets first. "The same thing every night, mostly," he responded, as close to casually as he could manage, and Sakura's eyes widened in surprise as she saw the slight smile that actually hovered around the corners of his mouth at the recollection, and irrationally, her heart leaped with hope. Was he going to tell her that he dreamed of _her_?_

"…_First I hold him down – make him feel absolutely powerless to stop what's happening to him. Like he did to—" Sasuke stopped abruptly; clearing his throat. "…Then I slit his throat, quick and clean and impersonal." Her teammate gave her a sidelong glance. "But sometimes I want to just stab into the carotid artery and let him bleed out. Sometimes I do. I think it just depends on my mood before I fall asleep." _

_Sakura stopped in her tracks, horrified despite herself, and, the slight smile still on his face, Sasuke walked halfway down the hallway before realizing that she wasn't following him anymore._

She had never killed anyone with a kunai or shuriken before. Weaponry wasn't her thing. But…she had to do the right thing by Sasuke.

Itachi was watching her with a strange expression on his face. It was calm and resigned and strangely understanding, and perversely enough, it made her angry. It would be so much easier for her to do it if he just slipped in some callous statement about Sasuke or about the rest of his clan—

"So," Sakura stated flatly, gripping his hair a little tighter and masking her nerves by focusing only on his eyes as she pressed the point of the kunai to his carotid artery. Strangely enough, it was _her _who felt a twinge of pain at this. Itachi was so…well, she shouldn't feel any shame in admitting it, but so attractive that it made her ache, and easily the strongest and most skilled shinobi of her generation; possibly one of the best to ever come out of the Fire Country. He was the kind of guy she could have crushed on or hero-worshipped or even possibly come to respect as an older brother – or all of the above. He could have been absolutely incredible in every way; a lifelong, lasting credit to Konoha, and all of that had been wasted. She felt a deep, pervasive and almost inexplicable sorrow for that…for whatever in Itachi had broken and made him like this. But more than that; she felt more sorrow for Sasuke's mother and father, and for all the other innocent people who had died on that horrible night.

This wasn't the time for feelings or motivations, though. She couldn't think of what had broken inside Itachi's mind that had made him do that. It wasn't the time to be considering shades of gray. She had to focus on the facts, and just the facts. This was the man who had destroyed Sasuke's – and countless others' – lives. Nobody had held a knife to his back and forced Itachi to kill his family. Nobody had ordered him to do it. No matter what else, he had been acting of his own accord, and those thoughts steeled her resolve to what it had been earlier.

"Any last words, Uchiha?" A humorless sort of smirk found its way onto her face, one that felt directly channeled from Sasuke himself, as Sakura released Itachi's hair for a few moments in order to caress his cheek lightly. "I wasn't supposed to be the one to ask you this or be the last thing that you saw on this earth, but I'll do my best to hear you out."

Despite the gravity of the situation, Itachi sighed a little, his gaze flickering to somewhere above her head. "Sakura," he told her softly, and even though she didn't want to, the pink-haired kunoichi could feel herself leaning closer, attentively. "I say this out of no interest in preserving my own life one more day – but if I were you, I would think long and hard before doing this."

Sakura felt her eyes narrow, and she pushed the point a little deeper. It hadn't drawn blood yet. "Get to the point," she countered, making her voice sound a hell of a lot tougher than she felt.

It amazed her how Itachi could conduct a calm, rational conversation while being pinned down by a kunoichi who fully intended to kill him, but still, he sought her gaze. "Exactly how much does Sasuke want to be the one to kill me?" he asked, his voice radiating a quiet sort of intensity. He could tell that his earlier estimation of the situation had been incorrect, once again – no matter what Sakura had heard earlier this morning to rattle her so much, her reactions and interactions through this entire conflict had confirmed that Sasuke was still alive and whole; that she was still fighting for him.

Sakura didn't allow her grip on the kunai to falter. "…More than anything else in this world," she admitted, hating how her voice threatened to break on the last word. "It's what he lives for. What he's _been _living for."

She realized it before Itachi could even say it, and the pink-haired kunoichi could feel her shoulders slump with the weight of the realization. It hadn't occurred to her before…

"You are doing this because of your feelings for him," Itachi commented gently. "You do not want him to be hurt in any sort of confrontation, and so you chose to put yourself in danger instead."

She just nodded, her eyes looking suspiciously shiny, and for a moment, he wondered again - the thought causing him more pain and envy than it should - what it would be like to have somebody feel that kind of unconditional love and devotion toward him.

"It is a noble sentiment," Itachi allowed, wondering whether the distant ache in his chest was because of the sickness or something…less tangible. "Do you believe that Sasuke will see it similarly?"

Sakura knew what he was trying to do, and she shook her head mutely, refusing to admit it out loud.

"He would be bitter," Itachi mused, and when he began to slowly, non-threateningly ease himself up into a sitting position, Sakura didn't resist. She slid off his lap into the snowbank immediately next to him, although she still held the wavering kunai to his throat, looking up at him with wide, liquid eyes. "…To say the least. Angry. He would lash out at the nearest available victim, the person responsible, and that would be you."

Itachi didn't have the heart to elaborate further, but from the way Sakura's gaze flickered downward and she swallowed visibly, he could tell that she was filling in the rest. Sasuke wouldn't speak to her again. _Ever. _As a matter of fact, she would be lucky if he didn't eviscerate her with the Chidori in a fit of rage. It was that, or he'd cut her out of his life entirely. She couldn't decide which one would be worse.

Her throat tightened. Stupid, _stupid, _stubborn boy.

She couldn't believe that she was doing this, but at long last, Sakura forced her fingers to unclench around the handle of the kunai, and it dropped harmlessly into the snow. She wrapped her arms around herself, unable to look at Itachi. She couldn't make sense of her feelings – he had convinced her to do what she had sworn not to, but at the same time…it felt like he had prevented her from making some kind of mistake. She felt guilty but grateful, and she _hated _herself for feeling like she owed him anything. Either she had been very skillfully manipulated, or Itachi was looking out for her in some way…or, even, both. She didn't know which option would make her feel worse or more conflicted.

Not to mention that Itachi now, without a shadow of doubt, knew that Sasuke was alive, and that _she _had been trying to kill him. There was no way either she or Sasuke would be safe now. She had fucked up _so _badly…but either way she had chosen to do things, even _if _she had killed Itachi when the chance, she would have screwed herself over. But more immediately, Sakura knew that her life was probably over. There was no reason for Itachi to keep such a tangible threat around, and she closed her eyes tightly, unable to believe that she had come so far and still failed.

This had been a close call for him; closer than Itachi had ever expected. He knew he had done what he had to do to survive the encounter, but…Sakura just looked so miserable that it hurt.

It was unbelievably, incredibly reckless, but he reached out slowly, gently combing his fingers through her long locks, pushing Sakura's disarrayed hair away from her face, and Itachi continued the light but steady, repetitive actions a few more times. After a little while, she unconsciously leaned into the comforting touch, and the movement was so instinctively trusting that it made his heart beat a little faster.

But then Sakura's eyes snapped open in a belated realization of what she was doing, and she flinched back as if Itachi had slapped her, staring at him through stunned eyes.

The spell was broken, and almost unable to believe his own foolishness, Itachi brought his hand back to himself self-consciously, as an awkward silence fell over them. More than anything else at the moment, he wanted to tell her not to be afraid.

His lips twisted into a self-deprecating smirk. But then again, that would take all the so-called _fun _out of things.

It was times like this that he truly despised the role that he had to play.

Sakura curled her knees underneath her, slowly raking her fingers through her hair as if that would help erase the feel of Itachi's touch. She was trapped. She couldn't get rid of Itachi herself, because she would risk Sasuke hating her forever. It looked like all she could do was find a way to get in contact with Sasuke _somehow_, and lead him to Itachi, or vice versa.

…If Itachi let her live that long.

Something in her mind, though, was telling her something different. There was something wrong about this entire situation, something that she couldn't place. It started with Itachi's weird chakra shield thing that had obscured her tracking technique. Then, she just couldn't shake the feeling that he was more than capable of capturing that target – that he might have been a fraction of a second too slow with the kunai on purpose. Not to mention those few undoubtedly strange lines in her conversation with him. "_Do not speak of things that you don't understand," _when she had accused him of being a murderer who didn't care about Sasuke as much as she did. "_My younger brother probably chose to give himself up to Orochimaru instead of realizing how lucky he was," _after Itachi had taunted her about loving Sasuke. Not to mention how Itachi had seemingly been uninterested in preserving his own life for his own sake…and instead told her to spare his life for her own well-being. The way he had talked about it almost made her feel like—

Well. It was crazy. Insane.

It almost sounded like Itachi didn't want to kill Sasuke.

It almost sounded like Itachi would let Sasuke kill him.

Sakura felt her shoulders stiffen with sudden tension, her eyes narrowing slowly.

_Yeah. Right. _The stress must have made her crack. Sasuke hadn't warned her about this, but it was slowly becoming clearer and clearer that _this _was exactly what she had to watch out for. Through what he was or wasn't doing, Itachi was playing her like a piano virtuoso…but she couldn't fall for it. Her plan had to be reconfigured, and she just had to keep her eyes open and not let her guard down and try her best to get out of this with both her and Sasuke alive.

But still, if there _was_ something going on beneath the surface, she absolutely had to find out what it was, for both of their sakes. She couldn't completely discount the possibility. It could mean life or death for both of them.

…Or, all three of them.

She blinked a few times, only to find that Itachi had stood up, and was holding a hand out to her.

After only a moment's hesitation, Sakura took it with her uninjured arm, allowing him to lightly pull her to her feet. Without another word, she began to follow Itachi out of the snowy forest. Two hours, one painfully wrenched arm and shoulder, a missed opportunity, and a migraine's worth of confusion later…and she was back at square one. Back where she started.

Great.

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

As always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. I love hearing you guys' feelings about this. :)


	7. Apples

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was lovely enough to review. :)_

_Chapter Seven: Apples_

* * *

_Sound, One Week Prior_

* * *

"Where _is _the Land of Stone, anyway?"

"It's like…three hundred or three hundred and fifty miles to the – well…uh…Karin, do you remember?"

"North? I _think. _Or maybe it was west…I'm not entirely sure…or maybe we're supposed to go north for two hundred miles and then turn west?"

In unison, Jugo, Suigetsu, and Karin all turned to Sasuke, giving him blank looks, and he stifled the urge to groan exasperatedly. They had just crossed Sound's external border, and still, he couldn't control the anxious drumbeat of his heart. This was the first time he had stepped outside Sound since he and Sakura had first gone there, three years ago – and it was the moment he had dreamed of for years.

He stretched his chakra to the limits, glancing back and forth through the snow-covered forest, glaring at every blankly empty space. It had been too long since he had been in contact with Itachi's chakra signature, but there were some things that he could never really forget.

"Hello? Sasuke?"

Sasuke turned around sharply, to find Suigetsu waving a hand in front of his face, and he cringed back, narrowing his eyes at the former Mist-nin. "_What_?"

"You looked a little preoccupied," Jugo commented in his usual calm, pleasant way.

Only Karin remained silent, placing one hand on her hip and giving him an unusually perceptive look, sharp red eyes scanning over his features. At last, she sighed, shaking her head disgustedly. "I don't get it – Sakura is just so wrong about you. You're unbelievable."

Sasuke felt himself bristle at the provocation, pushing Suigetsu out of his path and making his way toward the red-haired kunoichi. "You have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," he countered coldly, staring down at her.

Karin didn't back down from the confrontation. "You have the rest of your life to find your brother," she retorted acidly. "We left the base to find Sakura, remember? That's what you were ranting to Kabuto about, and the _second _we actually leave Sound, you forget all about her and go back to your insane obsession with Itachi – don't even try to lie about it; we can all see that you were trying to track him instead; we all know that _he's _your first priority—"

"Don't you _dare_—"

"Stop it!" Suigetsu snapped, pushing between them – for once, trying to diffuse the tension rather than provoking it. He glared at Karin over his shoulder. "You – don't judge him, okay? You have no idea. And _you," _– he drew himself up to his full height, surveying Sasuke coolly – "don't yell at her. And, in a way, Karin's right. We don't know Sakura's situation right now, which means that she's the priority."

After a few moments in which all three of them silently glared at one another and Jugo somewhat awkwardly stood by, Sasuke sighed tersely, turning away from Suigetsu and Karin, and refusing to reply.

"Look," Jugo interjected, re-shouldering his pack a little nervously. The tension was still thick in the air between them, and it set his nerves on edge. Until the issue was fully resolved, Karin and Sasuke would just keep sniping at each other, and Suigetsu would be caught in the middle, and it would just be a huge distraction for the group; they would never get anything done. "We should – I mean, as long as we're out of Sound, there's no harm in looking for both of them, right?" The words came out in a rush, and all three of his teammates looked at him incredulously, making him fidget a little self-consciously. "If we find Itachi along the way, we can let Sasuke get rid of him before we go on looking for Sakura. If we find Sakura first, then, that's good – and then we can make sure she's okay and then go and look for Itachi."

Sasuke turned away a little, feeling his face heat up a little. Sakura's face flickered through his mind for a fraction of an instant, and an unfamiliar sensation stirred deep within his chest – shame. Jugo's explanation sounded so…rational, and he wished that he had been the one to come up with it. "Fine," he said, too quickly.

Regardless of the snow, Jugo sunk down on one of the broken tree stumps, pulling his pack onto his lap and beginning to rummage through it. "Alright, then…"

"What are you doing?" Karin asked curiously, regarding him as if he had grown a second head.

He extricated two scrolls of paper and a dark pen. "When we get to Stone, we need to show composite sketches of both Sakura and Itachi to people in every town we pass through," he replied slowly, biting on the edge of the pen as he stared at the paper intently. "Physical descriptions will only get us so far. Sakura especially stands out because of her hair, but pictures should help trigger memories better. Hopefully someone will remember seeing her around…"

Jugo's voice was distant and lost in thought, and Sasuke blinked, startled, as with several painstaking strokes of the pen, Sakura slowly began to take shape on the paper. He hadn't known that Jugo could draw. From Suigetsu's confused blinking at the skilled rendition, he hadn't either. It was definitely, recognizably Sakura, but there was no way that Jugo could do her real justice.

When he was finished, he carefully set that one aside, and stared at Sasuke intensely, tilting his head a little to the side. "…What does your brother look like?" Jugo asked, at length, looking more than a little uncomfortable at having to ask this.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out, and Sasuke turned away from his team's quizzical, concerned gazes sharply, hoping that would make it easier. "He's taller than me," he said, and even though he was trying hard, he couldn't help how strained and tense his voice sounded. "…Older-looking, too; he's twenty. Long hair, tied back at the base of the neck. He has a narrower face and sharper features. Usually has the Sharingan activated. The Akatsuki cloak he usually wears is black with red clouds on it, which should be the major recognizable feature."

This took a bit longer for Jugo to complete. Sasuke didn't turn back and look at it once, but he heard Jugo making small, thoughtful sounds in the back of his throat, and Karin offering quiet, whispered suggestions.

"Okay," Jugo finally said, a little hesitantly. "It's done."

Sasuke waited until he heard the sound of both scrolls being rolled up before turning around again. As they usually did after any mention of Itachi, the other three looked distinctly ill at ease, but for some reason, it didn't aggravate the younger Uchiha as much as it usually did. They couldn't help it, and deep down inside, he knew that he would feel the same way if one of them was in a similar situation. In their own strange, emotionally stunted way, they all did care about each other to some extent.

"The closest border to the Land of Stone is three hundred miles north," Sasuke elaborated, watching their heads immediately swivel in that direction.

"So, let's say that Kabuto dropped Sakura off around there," Suigetsu extrapolated, looking thoughtful. "She doesn't know her way around, so she probably could have wandered anywhere."

"I'll be able to sense her more clearly once we get into Stone," Karin replied firmly. "As soon as we cross the border, as long as she doesn't have her chakra completely concealed, I can trace her exact path."

They were all so carefully optimistic that it made a bitter smirk twist onto Sasuke's lips. They didn't need to be optimistic for Sakura. She was alive; she _had _to be alive. He had never acknowledged it to her aloud, but she was a strong kunoichi who could more than adequately survive on her own. Hopefully, she hadn't strayed too far from the border of Stone. The sooner that they could find her, the sooner that he could return to normal…and they could move on to the issue that was nagging at the back of his head constantly, every moment of every day and even waking him up in the middle of the night.

Itachi.

Sasuke's fingers tightened around the hilt of his sheathed katana as they silently walked on.

* * *

_Stone, Present_

* * *

They hadn't exchanged more than a few sentences for about four and a half hours.

Since the failed attempt at capturing the target in the forest, she and Itachi had returned to the contractor's place and then gone on some kind of short but ridiculously complicated, major tension-inducing espionage mission, which she hadn't understood at all, because he had refused to tell her any details. All she knew was that she had been made to cast a complex confusion genjutsu on a phalanx of guards to some top-secret intelligence office in order to give Itachi license to simply waltz on in and gather all the information that he needed. Technically, he could have done it all by himself, but Sakura had the feeling that he didn't trust her alone for more than a minute.

She leaned against the wall outside of the contractor's building, sighing bitterly and regretting every single time that, in a fit of frustration while back in Sound, she had wished that dear Orochimaru-_sama _trusted them enough to leave the base and actually go on real shinobi missions. She had felt like she was really missing out on something. Actually, not so much. From her experience so far, missions were grossly overrated.

…However, perhaps that had more to do with her partner and less to do with the institution itself.

Sakura scowled, frustrated, lifting her hands to massage her forehead. She had a massive tension headache – the worst she'd ever had – and _confusion _was a gross, hideous understatement of how she still felt after her earlier confrontation with Itachi. He hadn't killed her yet, which was more than she had expected…but he could always be biding his time. And besides, it wasn't that issue so much as the doubts that had plagued her immediately after he had coaxed her out of not taking his life when she had the chance.

She had been stretching her chakra to the very limits since then, desperately searching for any sign of Sasuke or the others, and that in itself was enough of a strain. After a week of travel, they should have been getting close, and she couldn't waste even a little bit of chakra on herself until later tonight, when she had no other choice. Sakura closed her eyes for a moment, reaching back toward her left shoulder, before thinking better of it and curling her hand into a fist, pressing it behind her back as her lips twisted into a pained grimace. Itachi hadn't dislocated it – at least, not fully, but whatever he had done had messed that and her upper arm up a lot. She could barely move it, and she could bet that when she took her shirt off, the entire area would be bruised beyond belief.

_Itachi Uchiha. The perfect gentleman. I can just _tell _where Sasuke got it from._

…Sasuke had no problem with beating the crap out of her whenever Orochimaru-_sama _had requested that his most prized protégé display the skills that he so coveted – the skills that made Sasuke a shinobi already on parallel with more than a few of Konoha's ANBU, as Kabuto-sensei said. Most of the time, Orochimaru made the boys fight each other, but every few months, without fail, he always paired her and Sasuke up together. Sakura had never been able to bring herself to use any really crippling medical genjutsu on him – none of them were _allowed _to damage Orochimaru's precious vessel, anyway, and the pink-haired kunoichi's lips tightened at the memories. Even if she had been physically allowed to, she would never have been able to bring herself to hurt Sasuke.

He shared no similar reservations.

Unlike Karin, Sasuke never helped her ease off her vest when her arms were too stiff to move, in the aftermath of healing the bones that he had broken. Unlike Jugo, he never (unnecessarily, as she was a medic-nin, but _still_) sprinted down to the kitchens to bring her fresh packs of ice to deal with the black eyes. Unlike Suigetsu, who had accidentally left her with a long, shallow cut along her right leg during the one spar they had shared, Sasuke had never bandaged the wounds he had inflicted on her.

…Not only that. Sasuke had never apologized. Not even once.

Sakura frowned absentmindedly, looking down at the floor and nudging the snow with the toe of her boot. She had never held that, or any of the injuries he had inflicted on her, against him, despite Karin's perpetual disapproval. It was just how Sasuke was, and she had come to accept the strange nuances of his personality a long time ago. It was just that, sometimes she wished—

She cut the thought off abruptly, driving her boot further into the drift of snow. Sasuke was what he was because of Itachi. There was no point wishing otherwise.

After what felt like forever, she heard the door open and shut again, and when Sakura opened her eyes again, Itachi was looking at her guardedly, holding something in one tightly clenched palm. Before she could question him about it, he glanced toward her right hand.

It was obvious what he wanted, and a little nervously, Sakura held it out, still a little bit rattled by the unwelcome flashback to the less-than-pleasant aspects of her stay in Sound and relationship – if it could even be called that – with Sasuke. The sudden movement as she leaned away from the wall jarred her shoulder even more, and she bit her lip hard to keep herself from wincing.

Itachi's fingers were surprisingly gentle as he placed what felt like a stack of folded paper into the palm of her hand, before lightly curling her fingers around it. She doubted he realized it, but he held on just a fraction of a second too long, his thumb brushing across her knuckles, before drawing back a little self-consciously, and the action sent the slightest of tremors running through the length of Sakura's arm. She gave her hand a perfunctory glance, but then the pink-haired kunoichi's eyes widened upon looking at what he had given her – it was a good amount of precisely folded ryou.

What the hell? Was this his way of getting her, a potential threat to his interests, out of his way without killing her? _And _he had given her money – enough to keep her alive for a month, it looked like. Was Itachi actually taking mercy on her or something?

It was only then that Sakura became aware that she was staring at her hand like an idiot, her mouth gaping open like some kind of…stupid goldfish or something. Hastily, she snapped it shut, looking up at him quickly. She couldn't be quite sure, but to her sudden mortification, from the expression that just barely lingered at the corners of his features, Itachi actually looked somewhat amused.

_Horror of horrors_, Inner Sakura commented sarcastically. _He actually displays the human emotions of amusement and compassion, unlike Sasuke-kun. Perhaps you should just hook up with this one instead—_

Shoving the rather unwelcome commentary from her unconscious mind aside, Sakura blinked up at Itachi, more than a little nonplussed. "Um," she said awkwardly, hating her propensity to lose some coherency whenever uncomfortable situations like this came around. "What is this for?"

_You've charmed me with your excessive, exotically rare beauty and skill as a powerful kunoichi, triggering my sole remaining compassionate instinct, _Inner Sakura immediately sing-songed in her best Itachi impersonation…which wasn't saying much. _Therefore, I won't kill you – feel free to frolic merrily away along to Sasuke. Meanwhile, I will cheerfully jump off the edge of the nearest cliff in order to spare everybody the trouble of dealing with me. _

Sakura's left eye twitched very slightly.

She could only hope that the ravings of Inner Sakura weren't reflected in any way in her eyes, because as Itachi looked at her, this time, she could _swear _that she saw the tiniest of miniscule smiles touch the edge of his lips.

Sakura refused to let herself even think it, although the blush that defied her strongest protestations and began to slowly color her cheeks said enough.

"We can meet at the sushi bar three stores down from the hotel in an hour," Itachi decreed coolly, before turning his back on her and beginning to walk away. "You may go buy yourself something nice."

The words took a moment to register, and when they did, Sakura's jaw dropped in the way that she only thought happened in Karin's lame shoujo manga. Had he really just…?

Yes. Yes, he had.

That…that…_asshole. _

Infuriated, Sakura turned around and fairly stomped away in the opposite direction from Itachi, indignantly shoving the money into her pocket.

Damn Uchiha.

* * *

Once Itachi was sure that Sakura was a safe distance away from him, for the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt his mouth quirk up into a small, genuine smile.

It only took a few seconds for it to wither thoroughly, though, and the involuntary physical reaction was soon replaced by a frown.

Yes, it had been nice to indulge in a brief display of selfishness. It was hardly a criminal act; Itachi was the first to admit that he did experience the occasional impulses toward rare displays of levity. Most of the time such impulses manifested in serving as Kisame's accomplice as the two of them crafted innovative ways in which to cheat obscenely rich, overconfident civilians during games of high-stakes blackjack. Kisame enjoyed the financial payoff; Itachi rather preferred watching the physical reactions of their opponents when they realized that they had suddenly found themselves short of several thousand ryou.

It was just harmless fun, really.

…Unlike indulging the rather more dangerous impulse to give his temporary partner a good deal more attention than was strictly necessary or appropriate. Especially considering that said partner was supposedly in _love _with his younger brother – the thought was enough to etch a few more less-than-pleased creases into Itachi's forehead. Unlike any other shinobi or kunoichi he had ever encountered, Sakura claimed allegiance not to any set organization or village. Her loyalties were directed solely toward Sasuke.

A small, internal voice lectured him about how that was exactly why, despite the physical proximity; he should keep a strict distance from Sakura. She was a clever and very observant girl, who likely already knew more about him than he was at all comfortable with, and that, in turn, proved a danger to the façade that he had spent the past several years crafting.

…That voice was all cold, impersonal calculation; pure intellect and rationale speaking. Normally that did not conflict with the majority of his thoughts and actions, but as Itachi pushed the door to the small, warm and cozily decorated bookstore open and quietly slipped inside, he noted that his frown had become even more pronounced.

The strong scent of the sweet orange tea that he favored lingered in the air, relaxing him somewhat, and mentally, the dark-haired shinobi resolved to pick some up from the nearby store after he was done here. Even though he had never been to this particular bookstore before, Itachi found the poetry aisle as if it was second-nature to him, and, seeking some form of respite, he reached for the first haiku compilation he laid eyes on, restlessly flipping to a random page in the middle.

_Fire in your eyes_

_Alternating with deep peace_

_That's why I love you_

_--Tanja Cilia_

Itachi closed the book very gingerly, as if it ran the risk of leaping up of its own accord and beating him on the head with its pointless, saccharine sentimentality, before setting it back on the shelf.

He stared at the countless poetry anthologies in front of him through unseeing eyes, before at last, a long, frustrated sigh worked its way free of his chest. It was utterly irrational. Ridiculous, even.

But something about the pink-haired kunoichi fascinated him beyond belief. Perhaps it was the unusual circumstances upon which they had met, but disturbingly enough, Itachi could not shake the insidious feeling that it was Sakura's deep, unwavering loyalty to his younger brother that drew him to her so strongly. Where the overwhelming majority of shinobi had their emotions well and truly trained out of them by this point, Sakura was a total contradiction to that. She was undoubtedly intelligent, like himself – perhaps she would even give him a run for his money, were she older and more experienced – but everything she did was dominated and motivated by passion and love and loyalty, not the cold, mechanical sense of duty and self-interest that was instilled into all shinobi at a very young age.

There was a selflessness and a purity of emotion that Itachi saw in her that he had never witnessed in anybody else – the fact that she had willingly put her own life at risk in order to attempt challenging _him, _only for Sasuke's sake. He had encountered hunter-nin who had literally betrayed and thrown their own teammates into his path in order to attempt avoiding direct confrontation…where, in contrast, Sakura was willing to step forward and face him out of her own free will, and to potentially sacrifice her life for somebody that she loved so deeply.

To be completely honest…it reminded Itachi a little of himself.

He lifted one hand to rub the back of his sore neck, more than a little uncomfortable at the direction his thoughts were going. Shinobi were trained to believe that emotion was weakness; that it was a useless hindrance that should only be stifled or repressed entirely. For the longest time, he had sincerely believed that he was the one existing exception to that general rule. Perhaps it was unrealistic on his part, but it certainly felt that way.

Even though Sakura didn't, _couldn't, _know it – Itachi had orchestrated the past seven years of his life for his brother. He was as willing to die for Sasuke as she was, and the irony was nearly unbearable. Beneath the surface, they both shared that amount of; that capacity for such great loyalty, love, and passion. And, no matter what she thought, he _was _human. He had been painfully lonely for years, locked in a kind of self-imposed isolation, and the instinct to reach out to somebody who he shared that much common ground with was nearly overwhelming.

Sakura drew him to her like a flame to a particularly masochistic moth. Aside from the other reasons, she was so stubborn; so grounded in her ideals that it was frustrating, and he couldn't _help _having her on his mind so often. Itachi could tell that she would believe absolutely anything that Sasuke had told her, simply by virtue of the fact that it was _Sasuke _who was saying it. For a fraction of a second after he had coaxed Sakura to let him go – his word choice was perhaps a little too careless then, admittedly – she had looked up at him with just the barest flicker of doubt in her eyes. And, strangely enough, it hadn't filled him with panic, but…anticipation, almost. But then it was gone; the suspicion sliding back into her gaze, as she distanced herself from him.

For somebody so intelligent, she was surprisingly slow to question; to look between the lines…underneath the underneath, as Kakashi Hatake would say. Ironic, as the man had been her squad leader. Even though Sakura had not lived in Konoha for three or so years, as well, Itachi could just tellthat her idealism about her former home was so strong that the truth would be far beyond her wildest imaginings.

She was so…innocent. Idealistic. As pathetic as it sounded, Sakura reminded Itachi of what he used to be – at four years old, before the clan had begun shaping him into the man they thought he should be.

The thought filled him with an uncharacteristic sort of bitterness, and Itachi's fingers tightened around the spine of the book he was holding. On one hand, he wanted to take Sakura by the shoulders and force her to see the truth, whether she wanted to or not. It wasn't that difficult. He had slipped up around her so many times that it made him wince. In the first two days that he had known Kisame – _two days_, and that was back when the sickness hadn't been such a dead giveaway; back when his resolve and resilience had been sharper, and his acting abilities had been downright flawless – his partner had guessed. Not guessed, even. "_That's fucked up,_" Kisame's exact words had been, in that same flat tone, one day over dinner, after he had spent the entire day scrutinizing him. "_Somebody made you do it, didn't they, kid?"_

There had been no denying it.

For some inexplicable reason, the thought of Sakura believing all that Sasuke had told her – all about how he was a ruthless, callous, cruel, cold-blooded murderer; ready to snap at any given moment and annihilate anybody and everybody in his path – upset him. The realization, as it dawned on Itachi, was an unpleasant one: maybe it was just the fact that he was nearing the end, and subconsciously, he wanted at least _one _person to know the real him before it was too late.

…The temptation, on that front, was incredible. The temptation to slip up one too many times. Or, as he had very nearly done earlier, back in the forest, to just throw Sakura's own poisonous verbal attacks back at her, and come straight out and tell her the truth. To watch the world as she knew it shatter around her.

The idea sent a shiver down his spine, but Itachi made himself shake his head determinedly, ridding it of the foolish ideas. It was simply wishful thinking. One such careless action would ruin all the work of the past several years.

After a few moments of silence, in which he intently contemplated the nearest row of books – here, there was no Sakura, so he had the freedom to move his nose an inch away from the shelf, so that he could actually make out the words; faking perfect vision was an exhausting endeavor – Itachi's lips twisted into a slightly self-deprecating smirk. In addition…if he was to be completely, _painfully _honest with himself – other such deep, noble reasons aside for his fascination with her aside…he had not really been significantly physically attracted to any female since he had been thirteen or so. Since leaving Konoha, he had traveled to every corner of the world and back again, but while Kisame had a tendency to sigh after any and every person whom he saw that possessed the requisite amounts of estrogen, he considered himself infinitely more discerning. Sakura's strange, exotic coloring had been the only thing to catch his eye in years.

Itachi sighed quietly, eyes lighting on a book of poems that looked decidedly too romantic for his tastes, and then flickering on to the next one, even though his attention had been thoroughly diverted. He knew too much and too little about how to be a brother. He had not seen Sasuke since he had been eight, and he had tortured him emotionally, in a way so pervasive that it had left scars on his psyche that were probably still present…arguably for his own sake, though. And yet, he was willing to die to redeem him.

The greatest regret in his life was that he had not been allowed to be a _real _brother to Sasuke, on a day-to-day basis.

However little he knew about what it was like, though…he still understood that there were certain unspoken truths; certain boundaries that were not to be crossed. However much the thought left a somewhat bitter taste in Itachi's mouth – however _wrong _it was – Sakura and Sasuke belonged with one another, and that had been decided long before he came into the picture. Regardless of the considerable temptation, he had no right to infringe on that.

Slowly and rather deliberately, Itachi walked to the opposite side of the lengthy row of poetry volumes. The covers shifted from red and pink and full of flowery cursive to dark and plain and rather forbidding. The tragedies, of course.

His shoulders relaxed just a little as he reached toward one that looked particularly promising. It was nice to be back where he belonged.

* * *

_Go buy yourself something nice._

There was no shortage of nice things in the more affluent areas of this town. There were streets upon streets of high-end clothing boutiques full of things Sakura had never even dreamed of, with towering window displays of ridiculously realistic mannequins wearing the most extravagantly gorgeous clothes and jewelry ever, and those made her miss Karin with a fierceness she couldn't ever have imagined. She couldn't even count all the times the two of them had lamented the serious lack of good shopping opportunities in Sound's border towns.

So Sakura turned away from those kinds of stores, instead heading purposefully toward the center of town. Even civilian towns had at least one store geared toward shinobi, usually owned by a retired shinobi or kunoichi, and she had come across this one when she had first staggered into this particular town; starving and freezing. She hadn't bothered going in, having no money at the time, but even from the outside, she had taken note of the impressive inventory.

It was still snowing, but surprisingly, Sakura didn't feel unpleasantly, bone-chillingly cold to any extent. She was wearing standard civilian clothes – probably purchased from one of the high-end boutiques she had just been longingly staring into a few minutes ago – so it didn't really make sense…unless Itachi had gone and infused the material with his chakra or something. It was a common thing for shinobi to do to protect their bodies from the ravages of excess rain, cold, or heat; albeit one she had never quite gotten the hang of, since medic-nin training hadn't taken her out in the elements all that often.

The thought of Itachi doing that for her made Sakura scowl, even as she ducked into the welcome warmth of the store, absentmindedly responding to the polite greeting of the cashier as she scanned the interior quickly.

It took her only a little while to find what she needed, and Sakura surveyed her things with satisfaction as she finally deposited them on the counter. _No frivolous pretty things for this girl, _she told herself wryly, watching the cashier total the costs of the small and discreet, yet large capacity, summoning scroll, along with the sleek roll of five razor-sharp kunai and the several sets of long-range shinobi radio wires. The latter were frequently used in espionage or tracking missions; the secondary pieces could be deposited anywhere over a set area, and as long as she kept the alpha piece near her and activated, she would get a constant sound feed of whatever was going on in the places she had planted the secondary pieces. The alpha piece also came equipped with a high-tech tracker display that would – if she heard something of interest – cause the location of the secondary piece nearest to it to flare up on the display…so that she could make it over there as fast as possible.

Even after all that, she still had a surprisingly large amount of ryou left over, and Sakura pocketed it discreetly as she left the store. If, for whatever reasons, it became necessary for her to leave immediately and find Sasuke and the others, she would definitely not be facing any sort of financial difficulty. _Thank you, Itachi. _

Kabuto had taught her only a few key genjutsu, but those would be acceptable in this situation. After cautiously making her way into one of the side alleys nearest to the store, Sakura hastily deposited her kunai and radio wires into the summoning scroll, before casting an appearance-altering genjutsu onto the scroll. Within moments, it had configured into a tiny, innocent-looking coin purse – dark purple and quilted with a little bow on it. Ino had one just like that when they had been twelve, and she had thought it was the cutest thing ever.

It fit easily into her pocket, and Sakura took a deep breath as she returned to the main street, running her chilled fingers through her hair. The Sharingan could detect the presence of genjutsu, but from what she had seen; Itachi didn't have it activated as often as Sasuke did. Considering what Sasuke had told her about him, that was strange…

Itachi wasn't at the sushi bar yet, so Sakura sank into one of the outdoor chairs at the small table, leaning back a little uncomfortably and trying not to put any weight on her shoulder.

_Trust your instincts. _It was advice that became second-nature knowledge to any shinobi, but what happened when you didn't understand what your instincts were trying to tell you? Or, worse, what happened when you had the kind of dark, sinking feeling that what your instincts were trying to tell you was completely irrational? Impossible? Insane, even?

Sakura eyed her pensive-looking reflection in the table's glass surface. Despite the utter conviction of the more rational part of her mind, there was just this tiny, nagging particle of doubt that refused to leave her alone. There was something about Itachi that just didn't fit; there was a strange disconnect between what Sasuke had described him as and who he really seemed to be. Earlier today, she had seen a little bit more of Itachi's emotional side, when she had accused him of not caring for Sasuke, and while it wasn't unheard of for psychopaths or sociopaths to fake emotions or reactions, Itachi had just seemed so…genuine and raw and unguarded in those moments that it was startling. It couldn't have been a pretense. It wasn't possible for someone to fake that kind of intensity.

Not to mention the added issue of the reason for the chakra barrier Itachi seemed to have covered himself with.

The pink-haired kunoichi scratched the tips of her fingernails against the glass glumly. She knew that Itachi was hiding something; that much was inarguable.

Now, she just had to figure out what it was. And, undoubtedly, _that _sounded a lot easier than it was actually going to be.

* * *

Much to his displeasure, the small, focused concentration of chakra that was centered around Sakura's left hip drew the majority of Itachi's attention for the entirety of their dinner.

He most certainly did not want to be thinking about Sakura's hips while the girl that they were attached to sat across from him, taking half-hearted nibbles of her sushi and looking utterly preoccupied. As somebody whose mind was typically whirring at rapid speeds throughout most hours of the day, Itachi could easily recognize when somebody else was doing the same thing. It was only that, when _Sakura _was the one doing it, it made him slightly wary.

The chakra covered by the genjutsu wasn't quite large enough for it to be the set of surveillance radio wires Itachi had hoped she would purchase, which was disappointing. He had planned to sleep an hour and a half later than customary the next morning, therefore giving Sakura the opportunity to escape into the massive forest near the border between Sound and Stone and then rig the area with the secondary radio pieces, which should have allowed her to keep track of Sasuke's movements as he (hopefully) approached the area.

How very…vexing. He had even walked in the opposite direction from the supply store in order to ensure that, in her fit of temper and subsequent desire to be as far from him as possible, Sakura would walk straight toward it. Itachi had thought, by giving her the requisite amount of money and the privacy to purchase such things, that it would have been a guarantee. Save for holding her by the hand and actually taking a leisurely walk around the town that happened to culminate there, there was nothing more that he could do.

The latter option wasn't quite so unsavory, a small and rather nefarious internal voice pointed out to him.

For her part, Sakura wasn't quite sure why Itachi spent the rest of their dinner glaring at his small platter of sushi like he was trying to make it spontaneously burst into flames.

* * *

The potential solution came to her forty-five minutes later, when she was safely in the warmth of their room. Almost as soon as they had entered, Itachi had muttered something about needing to pay for it and gone downstairs again, leaving her blissfully alone.

Not thinking twice about it, Sakura kicked off her boots, before proceeding to the bathroom and nudging the door half-shut with her hip. She liked not having to deal with the strain that Itachi's very presence caused her, but at the same time, being alone in such a large, relatively unfamiliar space was a little creepy. She and Ino had watched way too many horror movies in their younger days that centered around gruesome, frightening things that happened to innocent girls who found themselves alone in seemingly innocuous places like this.

Now that she had her chakra back, it was a simple matter to drain the sink and incinerate her poor, forlorn and hopelessly beyond repair old clothes with a small, well-controlled Katon. Afterward, Sakura wasted no time sliding out of her clothes – wincing as she struggled with pulling her sweater over her head – and she stared at her reflection then, a little shocked that she had gone so long like this. Her shoulder was a spectacular shade of twisted purple, and the bruising had extended to her upper arm and halfway down that shoulder blade as well. So it had been dislocated…or even separated. She wouldn't be able to tell without a more in-depth physical examination. Great. She popped out the side mirror on the cabinet, carefully angling it to give her a better view of her body so that she wouldn't have to twist around and contort herself too much; she could already tell that the injury was at a difficult location to deal with.

Gingerly, Sakura slid the strap of her bra all the way down, before freeing her arm of it entirely and then unhooking it, letting it fall to the floor; it was just irritating the skin there even more, and the pressure was unwelcome on her already impossibly sore back. She wrapped her injured arm around her chest and pulled a thin sheet of chakra to her other hand, twisting her body a little to the side so she could gently press it to her injured shoulder. The relief was slight yet instantaneous, and she felt herself sigh softly, pressing down a little bit harder. It would take a while, but it was going to be all right.

As she healed, slowly and carefully probing and beginning to correct the injured area, Sakura reconsidered her potential plan of action. Itachi had to release the chakra barrier at least once or twice a day; he might have great chakra control, but even _she _couldn't wrap an internal barrier of that strength around herself and never let it go. It would be a continuous, staggering drain on energy.

_Why would Itachi even feel the need to cover himself up with a chakra barrier, anyway? _Sakura mused absentmindedly, running her chakra-covered hand over her shoulder and applying a bit more pressure to it. There were only a few plausible reasons she could think of: the barrier might serve to protect anything beneath the skin if Itachi faced an attack targeting the internal body systems…like an organ-rupturing offensive medical ninjutsu, for example.

That was quite likely, actually, and Sakura found herself frowning speculatively at her reflection.

True, the barrier could be to keep from anything getting in…or it could be to keep anything from getting out.

She considered it for a little while, her hand stilling on its restless path. Once, Kabuto-sensei had offhandedly mentioned that Orochimaru did something like that – all chakra barriers were also crafted out of some kind of subtle genjutsu as well – to conceal his 'true appearance' from the rest of the world. Sakura hadn't pressed the issue; a little bit revolted and disgusted by the very mention of that freak, but now, she wished that she had.

…But what could Itachi want to conceal? She couldn't imagine that he had some kind of 'true appearance' that he was masking, and she had no doubt that the Itachi she saw was very, very real.

_Common misconception, Sakura-chan, _Inner Sakura offered sagely. _Undoubtedly Kabuto-sensei was on to something and Itachi's using the chakra barrier to hide the fact that he's really a girl._

It was the stress speaking, obviously, but Sakura couldn't help it; the mental image that immediately popped up was simply too hilarious to quell. After all, her mind could only handle so much tension-inducing, serious thinking at one stretch, and momentarily forgetting the gravity of the situation, the pink-haired kunoichi wrapped both arms around her chest and giggled softly to herself.

* * *

It hurt.

For the kami's sake, it had been around six hours since Sakura had kneed him in the groin, and it _still _hurt.

Itachi pressed the number of the top floor into the elevator's control pad somewhat more vehemently than necessary, leaning against the side as the doors slid shut. He had been trying to get his mind off it for the past several hours – he had more experience than most people in compartmentalizing even the worst, most debilitating kinds of physical agonies – but this particular experience was…rather new. He had hoped that the pain would dissipate after a few hours (surely this kind of prolonged torture was not common?) but that did not seem to be the case. And now that he did not have the added strain of the mission or the pleasant diversion of the bookstore to direct his thoughts toward other things, it seemed much worse than before.

Once the elevator opened again, Itachi quite subtly limped over toward the room that he shared with Sakura. It was humiliating to admit it, but by this time, he was beginning to fear some kind of…irregularity. Some sort of permanently crippling internal damage. As if he really needed more of that.

He doubted that she realized it at the time, but Sakura must have unconsciously directed chakra to her knee before the attack; undoubtedly that was why the injury turned out to be so severe. The possibility was enough to give the lone Akatsuki member a moment of pause, as his hand stilled on the doorknob. He had only heard of one other person known to use that kind of technique on a regular basis – the legendary Tsunade, Konoha's Godaime Hokage. Rumor had it that, by directing the slightest amount of chakra to her fist, she could shatter solid concrete walls into nothing more than dust with a single punch.

Itachi paled fractionally as he quietly slipped into the room, silently shutting the door behind him. If Sakura ever caught on to the _other _kinds of things she could do with her exceptional degree of chakra control (and unfortunately enough, she was so bright that he only gave it a matter of time), she would be an even more formidable kunoichi. Any shinobi would be lucky to have her as an ally, while any opponent would likely rather run screaming for the hills than attempt to engage her in combat.

A slightly wry smirk touched the corner of his lips. Lucky him.

Itachi was too lost in thought to note the apparent absence of the girl in question as he sunk down into the bed, reaching for the new book of poetry that he had just purchased earlier.

He didn't know what about it caught his attention. Sakura had switched on the light to the main room, so the bathroom light didn't particularly stand out. Maybe it was just the incongruity of the door being slightly ajar, and the way the light glanced off the mirror.

The door was open just a little; closed enough for Sakura's actual body to be hidden from view. But the way the mirror was angled…

He didn't _want _to look, really. Part of his mind had realized what he was going to see in the instant before it happened, but it was too late; he couldn't exactly stop himself.

Itachi swallowed almost imperceptibly, taking everything in with one brief glance. The way Sakura had pulled her hair into a sleek ponytail, getting it out of the way, and the way that she had modestly wrapped one arm around her bare chest…covering all the essential parts, he supposed, but creating an amount of cleavage that drew his unwilling attention for more than a moment. And, of course, the pained expression on her face as she turned to the side, blind to his accidental intrusion of her privacy, awkwardly nudging her elbow up in order to attempt giving her chakra-coated hand better access to the darkly bruised skin of her opposite shoulder, upper arm, and back.

Itachi could tell that it was healed halfway, but the sight still made something inside him clench up tightly, stunned beyond belief. He had meant just to stop her from bringing her hands together to form hand seals. _That _was not supposed to have happened. The heat of the moment, he supposed, mildly horrified – combined with how he had underestimated his own strength – but still…

If how awful it looked was any indicator of how severe the injury was…he had really hurt her, and Itachi didn't expect the sharp twinge of physical pain – lingering around his right shoulder; the same place that her bruises were – that came with the instant stab of remorse he felt at the mere thought.

She turned again, still looking worried by her inability to properly reach the slight spatter of bruises on her shoulder blade, and Itachi didn't know why, even though it only required a few minute twitches of his neck muscles, it was so damn hard to turn away. If he had been trained as she had, instead of being forced into the path that the clan had chosen for him, he could run his hands over her skin carefully, gently, and heal her bruised skin and torn muscles in a moment.

The thought; the _image; _lingered in Itachi's mind for longer than necessary, and a slight tremor raced through his hands as he practically felt how Sakura's skin would shiver if he touched her like that. How she would arch her spine away from his hands, but then slowly, subconsciously, begin to melt back into them; into the warmth they provided.

…That was unnecessary, though. A completely irrelevant, inappropriate train of thought. He would never have the opportunity to do such a thing, in any case—

Sakura's fingers moved over her shoulder again, gently massaging the injured area, and before he could stop himself, before he could _control _himself, Itachi was suddenly envisioning _his_ hands caressing her bare back – and every other inch of skin that was exposed to him – instead…or how Sakura would react if she blinked for a moment and then opened her eyes to find him in the bathroom with her, quietly shutting and locking the two of them inside.

In a rare, unguarded moment, he had to close his eyes tightly against the onslaught of rather evocative images that were triggered by the mere thought, shifting uncomfortably against the bed. These desires were strange and new and intoxicating and inexplicable…and getting very out of control, very fast. A small voice in Itachi's head was urging him to look away, now – it was the decent thing to do, and he knew that Sakura's contorting and angling would do her very little good, and she would have to change the positions of her arms sometime, and she in no way deserved to be stared at like a platter of food faced by an impossibly starved man.

Because she belonged with Sasuke, and she was fifteen, and—

In that instant, Itachi wanted Sakura – to touch her; to press her up against a wall and kiss her; to do anything to make her see him as more than some kind of deranged, psychopathic monster; to do all of the above and force her to understand him, the _real _him – so much that it made him feel sick. In more ways than one.

Slowly, painfully, he wrenched his gaze away from her, turning his entire body to the opposite side of the room with difficulty and lying down stiffly. Belatedly, Itachi realized that he was breathing too hard to be healthy, and his chest ached mercilessly…like an impossibly heavy, iron weight had settled on top of him.

He turned his flushed face against the coolness of the pillows, forcing himself to regulate his breathing, even though every breath was a struggle, and he crumpled a fistful of blanket in one white-knuckled fist, trying to calm down as the seconds slowly ticked by.

He could hear Sakura in the bathroom, and he tried not to envision what she was doing – tried not to think about the slender curves of her body; the uncertain, nervous way her fingers touched her own skin, unconsciously inviting more assertive exploration. Her soft, frustrated sounds had given way to small, quiet sighs of relief, and Itachi could assume that she had finally finished healing herself. After a few moments, he heard her stumble on something, bump against the counter, and swear quietly – but in doing so, her hip collided with the door, finally causing it to close properly.

_Good. _Itachi swallowed again, over his sandpaper-dry throat, forcing himself to close his aching eyes.

It was normal, he supposed, after a few minutes of torturous silence and stillness. The fierce, overwhelming nature of this kind of attraction…he had never experienced that volume of visual stimulation before, and added to the fact that he had been unable to get Sakura off his mind for a couple of hours beforehand, as well… He was only human, after all. Susceptible to all of those mortal weaknesses.

Almost unconsciously, Itachi put one hand to his heart, pressing down so hard that it hurt. Like he needed another reminder.

* * *

In the bathroom, Sakura sighed with relief as she pulled the shirt Itachi had given her last night over her body. It was funny – she had cringed so much at it before, but today, she could only seem to marvel at how loose, non-restricting, and comfortable that the simple black cotton felt against her skin. Through some sort of miracle, she had managed to get her shoulder healed. It was a rough, rudimentary job, though – the worst of it had been taken care of, but the muscles themselves were still mercilessly stiff. Unfortunately, massaging her own shoulder blades was quite inconvenient.

Feeling a slight iota of guilt for taking over the bathroom for so long, she pulled the door open and shuffled out, looking around cautiously. Itachi was sitting stiffly on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard, while reading something out of yet another – however, newer looking – unmarked black book, which he had positioned over his lap somewhat awkwardly.

Sakura lingered there for a moment, slightly unsure of what to do. She didn't know if it was just her imagination or not, but Itachi seemed to be radiating even more unapproachable vibes than customary. Not to mention that he didn't seem to be reading his book so much at staring at one point on a page with a kind of fixed intensity that would have probably made her melt if it had been directed at her.

_Melt in the bad way; _Sakura hastily clarified to herself as she approached the opposite side of the bed. _As in, slowly and painfully transfigure into slowly congealing lava before dripping off the edge of a cliff. _

She flopped down on the silky purple covers without further thought, but literally the very _second _that her body made full contact with the bed, Itachi hastily got up, and, still completely refusing to look at her, made his way to the bathroom as quickly as possible. In another instant, the door slammed behind him. Loudly.

Sakura blinked, a little startled. Due to her own preoccupations, she hadn't noticed before, but Itachi was limping. Subtly, yes, but still. It took her only an instant to figure out why, and in the same second, the blush started to creep up to her face. She had never attacked any of the boys in Sound like that during a spar – she just had Suigetsu's sworn promise that it was the only guaranteed way to rebuff even the worst attack by a male shinobi, and, well…it had seemed like an appropriate course of action at the time.

The minutes slowly moved by, with Itachi failing to re-emerge, and Sakura studied her hands, anxious despite herself. _You really didn't have to do that, you know, _Inner Sakura prompted, stepping into her occasional role as conscience. _It wasn't like he was about to knife you or anything. _

Sakura opened her mouth defensively. Upon realizing that she was going to argue with the voice inside her mind out loud, she shut it abruptly, drawing her knees to her chest and pushing her hands between them with an aura of mulish stubbornness.

Was it normal for it to hurt this long? Had she been a little overenthusiastic?

Suddenly, her horrified gaze snapped to her right knee, and then to the shut bathroom door, and back again.

_Shit. _Those certain parts of the male anatomy certainly weren't her specialty, and she hadn't really acknowledged it at the time because of how the adrenaline had just taken over, but…well, she had figured that if a knee to the groin could totally get Suigetsu out of commission, it must be effective, but Suigetsu and Itachi were two totally different cases. By her original estimation, that same attack could cause Suigetsu to fall to the ground and Itachi to only experience mild discomfort. So, for Itachi, Sakura had tried to increase the intensity of the attack a little…directing chakra to the surface of her knee. It had been a wild, spur of the moment idea that she hadn't even thought would work, but…

The expression in her eyes slowly changed to fascination as Sakura lifted her right hand, curling it into a fist and staring at it. If she tried to do the same thing; to bring chakra to her fist in the instant before she punched something…what would it do?

_Focus, Sakura! _Her mind demanded, and she dropped her hand guiltily. She had just severely injured Itachi, and Sakura didn't expect the prick of actual guilt and remorse that she felt. Unlike the majority of other things, she had no idea what her attack would have done to him. From what Suigetsu had made it sound like, there were a _lot_ of nerve endings down there.

She swallowed nervously. If Itachi had been hurting since then, and that had been six hours ago…well, in all honesty, she was surprised that he hadn't taken it out on her in any way.

Yet another anomaly to add to the rapidly-growing list.

Sakura interlaced her own fingers and stared down at them, totally unsure of what to do. Should she, well…knock on the door and offer to help or something?

The thought made her eyes widen, and the pink-haired kunoichi cringed reflexively.

She stayed stock-still, staring at the opposite wall with a blank expression until Itachi finally emerged again – dressed for the night, and, if it was even possible, looking even worse than he had before. His face was as pale as chalk, his normally impeccable hair was rather sexily mussed – the adjective escaped her traitorous mind before Sakura could even attempt to rescind it – and he looked, well…frustrated.

They positioned themselves as far apart on the bed as was possible without either of them falling off, and Sakura directed a discreet look at him out of the corner of her gaze, before quickly snapping it back to the white wall in front of her. Itachi was staring fixatedly at it as well, and distantly, she was aware that to an outside observer, this would probably look somewhat amusing – but the thick, uncomfortable tension that stretched between them was almost suffocating her.

"Fix it."

The abruptly spoken words were as terse and uncomfortable as she felt, and even though a tiny part of her had been dreading them beyond belief, Sakura was so startled by the sudden break in silence that she almost fell off the bed. Quickly managing to regain some semblance of composure, she turned towards Itachi so fast that she almost cricked her neck. "…Pardon?" she asked, her voice cracking on the last syllable.

Itachi's expression wasn't hostile in the least, but his meaning was made all too clear by the way his eyes flicked between her hands and his lap.

_Oh, no. _A million thoughts flickered through Sakura's head at once.

Firstly, Itachi had not phrased his words in a way that suggested that she had a choice in the matter. Furthermore, she _had _initially promised him her services as a medic-nin. And last, but not least…she definitely did not want to deal with an injured, irate Uchiha. She didn't even want to think about how Itachi would react if she refused him.

It was just the nature of the injury that was giving her pause, that was all. If she had done to his shoulder what he had done to hers, she wouldn't have hesitated to fix it up immediately. It was her word and therefore, her honor as a kunoichi at stake, after all.

That didn't change the fact that Sakura could feel the blood draining out of her face at a steady pace.

_Be mature about this, _she told herself severely, taking a deep, bracing breath. She had always resented Kabuto-sensei for barely letting her learn anything about actually healing and helping other people. This was her opportunity to do exactly what she had always wanted to do.

…But it wasn't like touching Itachi's junk was what she had always wanted to do. Of course not.

Professional veneer sliding into place, even though her nerves were set on edge so much that it was nearly unbearable, Sakura took a deep breath and held it, carefully inching closer to Itachi. Even though she could practically feel the impatience radiating off him at her tentative approach, he didn't move a muscle; probably accurately guessing that she would jump out of her skin at any sort of unexpected touch. She appreciated the consideration.

"So," Sakura finally stated, swallowing in an attempt to mask her nerves. She was practically tucked against his side – one of Itachi's arms was slightly behind her; she could feel the warmth radiating off it, and she was eye level with his chest. Luckily, she couldn't see his face from this particular angle. This was going to be uncomfortable. There was no way around it. No matter how professional she tried to be; no matter how many other delicate medical procedures on the human body she had performed in Sound; none of them had such a…sexual connotation to it. Sure, maybe experienced medics like Tsunade-sama (whom Kabuto-sensei had always spoke about in a half-mocking, half-respectful tone) could touch guys like this and not think anything of it, but she was fifteen. She didn't even know what to do, exactly. She didn't just want to reach out and grab it or anything…or maybe that was what she was supposed to do.

From somewhere above her, Itachi cleared his throat subtly, and Sakura blinked down at it, trying to regain her focus. "Right, well," she declared, her voice a little too loud for the enclosed room. "I'm…going to start now."

_Yes, Sakura. Go right ahead. Grab the bull by the horns._

When she did, Itachi hissed sharply, grabbing her shoulder hard, his fingers digging painfully into her stiff muscles, and Sakura yelped, falling halfway over his lap. "Ouch!"

It was a struggle, but Itachi forced himself to relax his grip somewhat. She was _touching _him, and he could barely concentrate long enough to articulate a proper sentence. "I…apologize," he responded stiffly, trying to look anywhere but at her.

"No, no, I'm sorry," Sakura countered, so fast that she tripped over her words. Itachi hadn't let go of her yet, but at least he was being gentler. Still, she stared down at the…appendage…in her hands, stricken. This was obviously going to be worse than she thought – she didn't even know how to _handle _it.

_Easy, Sakura_, she cautioned herself. _Be careful. Just pretend it's something harmless and delicate…like a kitten…or something._

By this point, Itachi was actually holding his breath, halfway bracing himself for another stab of pain at the hands of the merciless young kunoichi.

It was bruised, Sakura realized, halfway through her slow, gentle and chakra-enhanced stroke, _really _badly. No wonder Itachi had been limping around like that. Healing this was much easier than her shoulder had been, though; all it needed was a few doses of chakra. Besides, the act of, well…touching it was a lot less frightening now. It was strange how well a simple technique to get her mind off things worked.

Strangely enough, though, as soon as she had started up again, Itachi had suddenly gone completely rigid and motionless, which she was thankful for. But when she got ready to repeat the process, Sakura felt all the breath leave his body in a long, contented-sounding_,_ sigh, his free hand drifting from her shoulder to curl around her the back of her neck. His thumb gently caressed the skin there, making the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

…_Oh, dear,_ Sakura thought faintly, trying to force as much chakra to her hand as possible and speed up the entire endeavor. What the hell?

Was he—

He wasn't supposed to be _enjoying _this. Then again, she didn't think that Itachi was even fully conscious of what he was doing.

_Well, _part of her mind voiced dryly, _you did promise sexual favors, after all._

Sakura nearly flinched back from the thought itself. _I'm a good girl, _she thought, somewhat irrationally under the circumstances. _Good girls don't give handjobs. _

She dared another quick look upward. Itachi's eyes were actually closed, his long, sooty eyelashes just brushing his cheeks, and his head tilted backwards. Every so often, the muscles in his shoulders would stiffen and he would roll them backward experimentally without opening his eyes, like he wanted to concentrate on whatever was going through his mind. From where Sakura was sitting, she could actually hear the soft, slight snatches of sound that occasionally escaped from his throat – almost like a purr; deep and satisfied. Itachi looked so…unguarded. Pleased. It was the most human that she had ever seen him, and it was fascinating. Eventually, his hand started to rub achingly slow circles against the back of her neck, making her want to tilt her head backward in order to further the touch.

The emotion that swelled up inside her was totally unexpected and unidentifiable, and now feeling even more uncomfortable with the entire situation, she finished as fast as she could. Her formerly satisfactory kitten imagery was now doing no good, and after a few minutes, Sakura tentatively looked up at Itachi, drawing back and letting go slowly. Belatedly, she realized that despite her attempts to keep some sort of distance, one side of her body had been snugly pressed against his chest for most of the time. It was weird how comfortable that felt. More significant than that, he hadn't even made any move to shrug her off him.

_Physically_ comfortable_, _Sakura hastily amended. Just physically comfortable. A slight lapse in self-awareness caused by her diverted attention, no doubt.

Still, part of her; small and traitorous and totally inexplicable, almost didn't want to break the strange spell that had fallen over them.

Itachi's eyes flickered open, after a couple of moments, and Sakura felt oddly self-conscious as he slowly, languidly looked her over. She couldn't read his expression, but for the first time, stupidly enough, she didn't feel afraid. Just…expectant, somehow.

"I'm done," she blurted, regardless of the fact that it was ridiculously obvious, and much more loudly than their proximity required – damn, she hated how her mind had seemed to have turned into a puddle of mush. She just couldn't stop thinking about the fact that her hands were actually tingling.

Itachi blinked a few times, still looking as if he had just come out of some sort of trance. "…Very well," he replied, at length, and Sakura wondered whether the faint tone of regret in his voice was just a fragment of her imagination. The knot in her chest loosened a little – she really hadn't known whether he was going to ask her to continue or not, but she was so emotionally exhausted that she couldn't muster more than a passing sense of relief.

Without another word, Itachi reached over and turned off the small lamp at the bedside table, plunging the expansive room into darkness, and Sakura fidgeted awkwardly, all too aware of his movements as the two of them slid under the covers. They were close…_really _close, enough so that she could just slightly feel the warmth from his chest against her back, and that would have set her nerves thoroughly on edge if she was less drop-dead exhausted. Try as she might, she couldn't summon up the same real conviction that she had felt earlier that Itachi was planning to off her at the nearest possibility. He'd had more than sufficient opportunities to do so, and he hadn't even done so much as look at her amiss.

_Stay awake, _Sakura reminded herself sternly, even as she turned her head into the pillow, pressing her cheek into the silky, lavender-scented coolness. She had to stay awake for as long as possible, at least until Itachi released his chakra barrier. She had to know what he was hiding.

Her eyelids fluttered, her eyes rolling back ever so slightly. But it had been a tough day – the exhaustion and constant worrying about Sasuke, the rough conflict with Itachi, the mission…

Her resolve was stronger than that, though, and she forced her eyes open, determinedly staring at the silk of the pillowcase.

But then Itachi reached out, calmly and quite matter-of-factly wrapping one arm around her waist, before gently tugging her back against him.

Sakura froze.

Her eyes snapped wide open, staring at the blankets crumpled an inch from her nose in near panic, her fingers fisting in the sheets defensively. Her lips parted, a strangled protest catching in her throat out of sheer, undiluted fear. But it wasn't some kind of assault. He was holding her. _Itachi _was holding her, gently and non-threateningly. She couldn't actually see him, but—

The touch was sudden and unexpected; enough to make her give a choked gasp and arch her entire back away from his palm. Before Sakura could even blink, Itachi's arm tightened around her, making much movement impossible, and before she could fight it, he responded quietly, moving even closer. "Relax," he breathed, into her ear. His breath was warm, stirring the loose strands of hair near the side of her face, and the gesture sent an irrepressible shiver throughout her entire body.

Her body went poker-stiff as an instinctive defense mechanism, and, taking advantage of her newly-discovered skill, Sakura quietly loaded her right elbow with as much chakra as she could summon. If Itachi made even one bad move, she would shatter every single one of his ribs without compunction. End of story.

For a few moments, there was just tense silence, save for the soft hum of the heating unit and her own somewhat ragged breaths. But then, almost experimentally, Itachi rubbed his thumb across the stiff muscles of her right shoulder blade, applying just the right amount of pressure.

An unwilling sigh escaped her mouth, and it was mortifying, yes, but it just felt so good. Apparently taking the involuntary reaction as permission to continue, Itachi cautiously slid his palm over her shoulder.

He was massaging it, Sakura realized hazily, after a few more moments. She didn't need him to. She didn't even want him to be touching her like this – so gently, so intimately. The stiffness wasn't _that _horrible, anyway, and a good night's sleep would probably relax the area enough.

Why was Itachi doing this? It served no benefit to him whatsoever. It wasn't remotely sexual _I-want-something-from-you _touching. It was comforting and it made her want to close her eyes and relax and sigh and snuggle against him gratefully. It was making her feel better and worse at the same time. It was crazy, considering the fact that he had been the one to do this to her. It just didn't make any sense.

…Unless, somehow, this was his way of apologizing for hurting her in the first place.

His fingers kneaded into a particularly tight knot at the center of her shoulder blade, and despite her best efforts to hold it back, Sakura moaned quietly, letting her eyes slip shut as she leaned closer against him. Itachi's hand stilled momentarily, but he continued. For once, his hands were warm; she could feel the calluses on his palm through the worn material of the thin shirt she was wearing, and he was surprisingly good with his hands. Briefly, uncharacteristically, she wondered what it would feel like if he slipped his hand underneath the hemline of her shirt and trailed it back up to her shoulder blade. Skin on skin contact; the roughness of his palm against the smooth, untouched skin of her back. It would probably be divine.

_Stop it, Sakura, _a small voice in her mind ordered, sharply and mercilessly. _Don't think like some kind of…some kind of slut. This is Itachi. _Itachi, _remember_? _What about Sasuke?_

Regardless of how physically relaxed that Itachi was making her feel, a wave of sudden, inexplicable sadness washed over her – deep sorrow, mixed with a trace of something unexpected. Anger. The renewed knowledge or realization of it was even more painful than it had been the first time: that Sasuke would never, ever do this for her…that he would never offer her any of his attention or regard in a way that wasn't intended to benefit him first.

"Why?" Sakura mumbled, out of the blue, the words muffled and indistinct.

Again, Itachi paused, drawing back a little – she had been so still that he was under the impression that she had fallen asleep. "Why, what?" he asked guardedly.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

Her voice was so soft and plaintive, so hurt and hopelessly confused, that it made something inside Itachi ache distantly. He had been stupid enough for one day. What he was doing…it was just causing unnecessary pain and conflict and confusion for both of them. This was enough.

Before Itachi could think better of it, he pressed the slightest of kisses to the back of Sakura's head, his lips just barely skimming her hair. She wouldn't have felt it at all; he barely did. "I am not doing anything to you, Sakura," he responded heavily. _More accurately, I promise that I will not do anything further. _"Sleep."

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

Thank you, again, to the incredibly talented and amazing SwiftKick for reading this and the previous chapters over. To anybody who hasn't already, you should definitely go check out her work if you want to read some amazing ItaSaku stuff.

As always, you know that I love hearing what you guys have to say. Anddd if you're going to be kind enough to leave some sort of review, any birthday wishes would be loved dearly. I'm going to be seventeen on Thursday!

Last but not least: to everybody who celebrates it, I sincerely hope you all have a very, very happy Thanksgiving. :)


	8. Crumble

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was incredible enough to leave a review. :)_

_Chapter Eight: Crumble_

* * *

The wind was eating him alive.

Suigetsu pulled the hood of the jacket over his head, growling quietly to himself, but in spite of the display of not-so-subtle frustration, he could feel the concern creeping into his eyes. Damn. He was wearing a heavy woolen jacket, with a thick scarf wound around his neck, and he was still cold. Freezing, actually, to the point where it was becoming difficult to even think straight, and he had to grit his teeth together to keep them from chattering. He, Karin, Jugo, and Sasuke were all just about knee-deep in snow, and every gust of razor-sharp, icy wind hurt like hell against the few exposed inches of his skin.

_Shit._

This was fucking miserable, and all Suigetsu could do was wonder how Sakura had survived it – _if_ she was still out there, somewhere. He had eaten a huge meal two hours ago, and was bundled up in three times more layers than she had been wearing when that asshole Kabuto had dumped her out here, and still, he was suffering.

The thought of Sakura, freezing and hungry and lost, made him wince, and before he could think twice about it, Suigetsu turned towards Karin sharply. Upon seeing him do so, Sasuke and Jugo stopped as well, glancing back at her. "Sensed anything?" the former Mist-nin demanded, for the third time in half an hour, even though the sinking feeling in his stomach was already confirming his worst fears.

True enough, Karin shook her head, looking more frustrated than he had ever seen her. "Her chakra is getting too faint to even follow its trail – by the time Sakura crossed through this exact point, it was already beginning to deplete itself due to…" she blinked, and swallowed once, an unfamiliar expression flickering over her face. "…Acute starvation, I think."

To somebody who enjoyed eating four large meals every day, even imagining Karin's diagnosis of Sakura cut Suigetsu like a knife, and he blinked – lost for words for once in his life. "But…" Only one thought seemed to circulate through his mind, over and over again, like a stupid dog chasing its tail. "We need to find out where she is. Where she's gone. _Now._"

Sasuke's only concession to Karin's words were that his gaze began to swirl crimson, his hand going to the hilt of his sword and beginning to tighten on it.

Without another word, Jugo turned around and stormed away, toward the row of shops and small restaurants at the edge of the town. Even though Sasuke was apparently too busy indulging in yet another self-absorbed emotional fit to notice, Suigetsu grabbed Karin's gloved hand and pulled her along with him as the two of them trailed after Jugo. "I hope that he doesn't get all overemotional over this and accidentally bring out the curse seal," he muttered quietly. "But it looks like the bipolar freak is on to something, doesn't it?"

Even as upset as she was, Karin found time to elbow him in the ribs. "Don't call him that, you idiot," she glared back. "Jugo just wants to – well, if I'm right, then he's got the right idea. We need to find Sakura as soon as possible, and glaring at everyone with the Sharingan and thinking murderous thoughts about how this, of course, is all _Itachi's _fault, won't do shit."

Suigetsu and Karin caught up to Jugo right at the moment that he shoved past a few bewildered civilians and slammed open the fragile, splintering wooden door to what looked like some kind of rustic eatery. Jugo strode up to the counter, staring down a startled-looking old woman as he slammed his pack down on it, pulling out one of the scrolls in fast, businesslike movements. Even Suigetsu flinched as he released the seal with a loud snap, leaning over the counter as he let the scroll fall open – revealing the sketch of Sakura, which had been accurately and meticulously colored last night. "Have you seen this girl?" he asked loudly, and Suigetsu could see the rapid rise and fall of his shoulders. Not a good sign.

The old woman shrunk back a little, her eyes darting back and forth, obviously wary. Cursing softly under her breath, Karin shrugged away from Suigetsu, stepping forward to put a calming hand on Jugo's back. Simultaneously, she gave the restaurant owner a sweet smile that ended up coming out more like a pained grimace. "I'm sorry, ma'am," she interjected, trying her best to offer some semblance of politeness. It sounded unnaturally forced and off-key, though – well, it _was_ Karin – and Suigetsu winced. "It's just that our…our close friend went missing recently and we're very worried about her. We have reason to believe that she passed through this town, and any hint about where she would have gone from here would be very much appreciated."

Somewhat mollified, the elderly woman nodded once. "Well, I wish I could help you, dear, but I can't say that I've seen your friend – and I'm fairly sure that I would remember, with hair like that—"

"Wait!"

The exclamation caught Suigetsu's attention first, and he blinked, surprised. A young, dark-haired woman, who didn't look much older than them, emerged from what appeared to be the kitchen; she held one large bowl full of ramen in her hands, but more surprising than that, she had a baby carefully strapped to her hip in some kind of intricate mechanism that he didn't even want to guess at.

Karin drew back, startled. "…Yes?" she asked guardedly.

The young woman set down her bowl, wiping her hands on her apron and reaching up to take her baby's hand gently, rubbing her thumb over his delicate knuckles with all the affection in the world. "That girl…Sakura…I remember because her eyes and hair were just perfect for her name…she helped me deliver him," she said quietly. "I had nobody else. The medics at the clinic turned me away because they needed every hand available for more legitimate births, they said."

She gulped at the very memory, pressing her cheek against the soft black down at the top of her baby's head. "I hung in there for two days – there's an abandoned shack at the edge of town that was warm enough – and I think she came in there because she was looking for somewhere to stay, and I don't think she had money, either. As soon as she saw me…well, I was in so much pain that I don't really remember, but she told me something about being a medic-nin, and how I should trust her."

Suigetsu became vaguely aware that his mouth was hanging open. It was just so – so typical _Sakura. _That even when she probably knew her chakra was in danger of depleting because of her physical condition, she'd still help someone who needed it.

The young woman bit her lip, unconsciously cradling her baby closer as she continued. "…After Sakura came, it was over so fast. So painlessly. I only had a few coins, and I offered them to her, I _begged _her to take them, but she flat-out refused."

She lapsed into silence, looking at them wordlessly. "…Sakura left soon after. She asked me if I knew where the border to the Land of Sound was, but I mean; until her, I've never even seen a single shinobi in my life, so I didn't. So she said she was heading due west."

All the breath left Jugo's body in a long sigh, and he slowly rolled up the scroll. "Thank you," he responded, with feeling, and even though it was rare that he actually agreed with him, Suigetsu felt himself nodding fervently as well as they exited, and Karin actually gave the two women on the opposite side of the counter a rare, genuine smile, before following.

They followed the trail west to the next town. This time, they hit four bars, two restaurants, and one coffee shop before Karin happened to chance on the next person who recognized Sakura's image.

"She was such a nice girl," the young man told her emphatically, his dark blue eyes liquid with concern. "I had been…well, I had been roughed up a bit, and we ran into each other when I was on my way to the clinic. I think that she had just been making her way into the town; she was on the usual travelers' path. I could barely even walk; it was that bad, and she pulled me into a clearing at the edge of the forest. I guessed that she was a kunoichi or something like it, and, yeah – once she had fixed me all up, she asked me where the border to the Land of Sound was. I told her that I didn't know, and she headed straight off, due west. Find her soon, alright?"

"West," Sasuke snapped, his eyes darting irritably around the clearing that they had taken temporary refuge in, and he couldn't help the aggressive tone that was slowly creeping into his words. His arm – _that _arm – was hurting again, as it had been, off and on, since his confrontation with Orochimaru. Since that part of the battle he didn't want to think about. Beyond that, he had this kind of sneaking, insidious suspicion about…

Well. Maybe he was mistaken. It had, after all, been years since he had come into any contact with Itachi's chakra signature. If Sakura was here, she would tell him that it was paranoia and that his memory for such finite details was absolutely unreliable, and Sasuke felt himself scowling at the nearest tree. He couldn't even tell the others, or ask Karin for clarification. They would all undoubtedly turn on him with the speech about how Sakura was the priority, regardless of the fact that the very thought of Sakura following the same path that Itachi had even _breathed _near turned his stomach and sent unpleasant chills down his spine.

"Why did Sakura keep going west? The border is south," he said coldly, and much more condemningly than he had intended. Even though Sasuke understood that this was irrational, a secluded part of his mind hissed unhappily, making itself heard. Sakura caused so much trouble for him – she _always _had – even when she wasn't physically there to make herself an annoyance.

Suigetsu understood that it was, ultimately, the escalating worry about Sakura and her whereabouts that was making Sasuke so irate, but Karin bristled visibly, as if she had read his mind. "_She _didn't know that," the red-haired kunoichi retorted acerbically. "And all she's run into so far were civilians, anyway. Besides, if Sakura keeps going west, she'll end up in Lightning. Their shinobi village is close to the border, so she'd definitely run into a patrol in a day or less." She paused momentarily, a rather cruel glint touching her eyes for an instant. "…And I'm sure those three or four ANBU-level shinobi _men _would be just delighted to help out a pretty, lost kunoichi – don't you think, Sasuke-_kun_?"

Sasuke practically snarled, and not for the first time that day, Suigetsu and Jugo stepped forward at the same time and forcibly separated Karin and Sasuke before the latter got a chance to whirl around and face her. "Shit, Karin," Suigetsu muttered quietly, looking backward and grimacing with displeasure at the rather sadistic smile that was currently adorning his girlfriend's features. When all four of them had been at the Sound base together, Sakura and Karin would snipe and bitch at each other more often than not, but he wasn't really surprised to find that, underneath it all, Karin actually cared for the other girl – enough to even confront Sasuke outright. "He's worried about her, all right? Don't go trying to provoke him."

"Asshole," Karin mumbled almost inaudibly, deliberately making it unclear as to whom she was referencing, and for his part, Jugo just closed his eyes for a moment, trying to focus on breathing in and out. The stress was beginning to tell on all of them, and the emotional volatility that practically blanketed the air around their little team was testing his self-control. He was sick with worry already, and he couldn't take much more.

They needed to find Sakura, and soon – for more reasons than one.

* * *

_Stone_

* * *

For the first time in longer than she could remember, Sakura dreamed of something that wasn't a horrible, gut-wrenching, wake-up-screaming nightmare of Sasuke choosing to undergo Orochimaru's possession technique.

In contrast, this was so foreign that it made her a little uneasy. She had spent so many nights afraid to fall asleep because of the nightmare and how it ripped her apart. It made her feel cold to the bone, frightened beyond logic and reason, and alone. More than anything else, alone and abandoned enough to bring tears to her eyes.

This dream was the opposite of that in every way. Usually, in her dreams or nightmares, what was actually happening took the backseat to how it made her feel_. _Sakura felt in sleep every bit as intensely as she did while awake. Maybe even more, actually – in dreams, there were no inhibitions, and no common sense.

The dream was scary, in a different way from the others. In it, she felt so…so loved. Not lov_ing, _but lov_ed. _As in, love reciprocated and not unrequited. Not shrugged away or dismissed for more important concerns. Sakura felt warm and contented and relaxed, and happier than she had been in years.

The two of them were in a meadow warmed by the sun, but that wasn't the primary focus of anything; just that she felt the slight, comforting warmth shining down on her back. Her arms were wrapped around someone's neck and she was curled up at his side, and, more surprisingly than anything else, they were kissing.

(It was weird. Sakura couldn't ever remember having a _nice _kissing dream before – only the occasional recurring feature in the nightmare, where Sasuke roughly pulled her to him by the hand and forced his lips onto hers and there was suddenly a snake's tongue in her mouth rather than a normal one.)

She was giving it all she had; kissing the guy she was with like she had never kissed anybody else before. But, more importantly, he was returning her attention with the same strength of emotion: equal parts passion and gentleness.

But…it wasn't Sasuke she was kissing, and that was what made the cold sweat first start to bead on Sakura's forehead, and made her begin to restlessly twist and turn in her sleep. She couldn't see his face; neither of them had broken the embrace, and her eyes were closed in an unmistakable display of absolute bliss. But he was touching her differently then what she was used to; slowly and lingeringly, like he wanted to savor every little moment. His hands roamed her body – pulling her even closer to him, brushing her hair out of her face, caressing her back and her sides, stroking the side of her neck and her cheek with his thumb – and they were so gentle and caring and they made her feel incredibly, strangely…safe.

She and Sasuke had made out twice before, during those rare camping sessions in the woods. Always after the others had fallen asleep, and always sitting on a long, petrified old log. It was always like this, too: Sasuke would go over to the log and brood silently, and after Sakura and Jugo had talked until Jugo fell asleep, she would go over to the log and sit next to him. She'd try to make small talk, which Sasuke would always brush off.

After a while, he would reach out and twine his fingers into her hair, at the base of her scalp and pull her into him, and they would start kissing. Sasuke never ceded control, not even then. He wouldn't touch her anywhere else but where he gripped her hair, and he used his leverage there to tilt her head and angle her whichever way he wanted it. He didn't like it when she touched him anywhere but his shoulders. When he finally tired of it, he would let her go, and without a word, get up and retreat to the side of the fire that he shared with Suigetsu and Jugo.

It was pathetic, Sakura realized now, pathetic enough to make her hate herself and even more disturbingly, almost kind of hate _him. _But what was worse was that she hadn't realized just how wrong that was until now. Until this, and until realizing what it was supposed to be like. This was how a guy who had real feelings for her (who enjoyed her company; who _wanted _her) would react.

Sasuke would never kiss her like that. Sasuke would never make her feel how she was feeling right now.

_He doesn't love me. He doesn't want me._

The dream was quickly turning into a nightmare.

Sakura moaned aloud, already half-waking up. In the fading vestiges of the dream, it was because she was so happy – because the guy she was wrapped around had pulled away from her a fraction of an inch to whisper her name into her ear; to tell her that she was beautiful, before pressing a soft kiss to the sensitive skin of her neck.

With her lucid mental state re-emerging, the soft, involuntary sound was one of pain instead.

Sakura opened her bleary eyes hazily, her unfocused gaze lighting on a nearby corner of the blanket. It was a mild surprise to find out that she had broken out in a cold sweat – so much that the back of her shirt was literally stuck to her skin – and her eyes were damp and stinging.

She turned, as best as she could, blinking hard in an attempt to quell the sudden, inexplicable tears. She just wanted to fall back asleep. She wanted to go back to the kissing and, more than that, the feeling of being unconditionally loved. Weren't dreams supposed to be the manifestation of the desires of one's unconscious mind?

She shouldn't feel guilty for it; for feeling like she wanted, needed, _deserved_, to be treated better than her previous experiences.

It wasn't a crime, to dream of kissing somebody other than Sasuke.

It wasn't a crime that, in her dream, when she'd had her arms wrapped around her lover's neck, she had been able to feel his long, sleek, raven-haired ponytail underneath her hands. To recognize the low, shiver-inducing tone of his voice.

Oh, god, _Itachi._

This time, the sound that broke free of her lips resembled nothing more than a despairing whimper. Sakura bit her tongue to silence herself, nuzzling her head against the pillow desperately. The two of them had fallen asleep tangled together, practically cuddling; his arm was still wrapped securely around her, her back pressed to his chest. As far as she could tell, Itachi's face was buried in her hair.

She couldn't even attempt to rationalize her thoughts right now. To tell herself that the dream had just been because she had never slept next to a guy like this, and it was fairly intimate, and the way Itachi was holding her did make her feel warm and safe and, until now, content. Or at least it created the illusion of doing so. It was just…random. The dream reflected what she wanted. Sasuke, Suigetsu, Jugo, and Itachi were really the only, well, men of date-able ages that she knew. It was just her mind playing tricks on her.

Sakura inhaled and exhaled shakily, curling into herself as best as she could. Her eyelids were as heavy as lead, and she could practically feel the dark circles underneath her eyes. She was a wreck.

She was motionless for a long time, disjointed thoughts like _Stockholm's Syndrome _floating around her mind. Part of her wanted to curl up into a ball and just hide from all the hurt of the world and will it to go away. Part of her, more disturbingly, wanted to turn around and press herself against Itachi's chest and wrap her arms around his neck like she had in the dream. Like that would chase all of her demons away.

Perhaps it was stupid and childish and naïve – and she was just beginning to realize how much – but Sakura had always just assumed that after…after Sasuke killed Itachi, that his personality would do a complete one-eighty degree flip. That, once his obsession with revenge was over, he would turn into a normal teenage boy…like Suigetsu or Jugo, or like Naruto and Lee and all the others in Konoha must be by now. That he would magically be a more normal sort of person, and he would get over being cold and callous and start to let people in – and, especially, that he would decide to open his mind to, well…the possibility of letting himself love somebody. Or, more accurately, returning the feelings that she had given him for more years than she could remember.

Sakura screwed her eyes shut, taking deep, calming breaths. What if he didn't? What if the scars that had been inflicted on Sasuke's psyche were too twisted and deep to just reverse themselves like that?

As much as it frightened her, she was starting to believe in the second option. From her limited experience so far…mental _conditions _seemed to run in the Uchiha family. The offhanded comments that Ino's dad had made about Fugaku, Sasuke and Itachi's father, were never flattering – _power-hungry, obsessed, fixated, ruthless, relentless _– and not to mention, Itachi himself. Handsome, talented, usually emotionless but simultaneously surprisingly considerate…murdered his entire family, save for one, in what was supposedly a fit of inexplicable rage…and harboring some kind of secret. Something he didn't want anybody else to know…and, something that she would literally kill to find out.

Whichever way you looked at it, there was something wrong with him. At worst, Itachi was an unpredictable, sociopathic killer.

At best…

Well, she couldn't even attempt to guess at that one.

Her attempt to divert her mind had been less successful than she would have liked, and Sakura wrapped her arms around herself as best as she could, trying to keep from shaking. If she was going to try and think objectively and realistically about Sasuke for once, then she had to consider that he was never going to 'recover.' That he would be the same cold, detached, emotionally reticent person for the rest of his life. That, if he ever did improve, it would be in the tiniest and most incremental of degrees, and it would take years and years. And that he might never be able to reciprocate what she gave him, and wanted so badly in return.

_So what? _Part of her asked cruelly. _You love him, don't you? Love and devotion are about dealing with every aspect of a person's nature, imperfections included. Get over yourself and your unrealistic expectations, Sakura._

She flinched back from the thought. It wasn't like that. She wasn't some kind of selfish bitch…it was just that…well, comparing the reality of how Sasuke treated her and seemed to feel about her, in contrast to her dream – of being with a guy who would treat her well and love her wholly and completely and unconditionally…

Almost unconsciously, Sakura bit her lip again. Her body was still totally physically exhausted, begging for her to let it sleep, but her mind was in an agony of self-doubt, confusion, and despair. It was a toxic mix, one that she had never felt so intensely before. More than anything else, it made her hurt, inside and out. Her heart was heavy; her chest tight with some kind of emotion she didn't even want to guess at, and there was a relentless pounding inside her head that only intensified when she closed her eyes. Not to mention that the damn tears simply wouldn't recede back into her eyes, no matter how hard she blinked.

It was the wrong thing to do in every aspect, but, inch by inch, she forced herself to relax into Itachi's hold again, leaning her head backward until she felt his lips brushing her hair.

After what felt like forever, Sakura's mind began to numb; her thoughts drifting along the irrational tangents and lines that they always derailed upon when she was getting ready to fall back asleep. She would just forget all about it. Who was going to be the person who'd love her so much, anyway? It was wishful thinking on her part. Just a stupid fantasy.

She had been asleep for what felt like only a few seconds when the arm that Itachi had locked around her tightened so much that it was suddenly painful, and in the same dazed moment, Sakura felt his entire body convulse sharply. Before she could even wake up fully; let alone even think of turning around to face him, she was alone in the bed, the sound of the bathroom door quietly shutting echoing in the still air.

It took her eyes a few seconds to adjust to the pitch darkness, and, disoriented, Sakura turned on her side, haphazardly trying to extricate herself from the blankets. What was going on?

Distantly, she heard the sound of water running, and the pink-haired kunoichi felt herself sinking back into the pillows, pulling the blankets back over her head and relaxing fractionally. She felt a little bit stupid for her hasty reaction. Itachi probably just woke up really, _really _needing a drink or something. It wouldn't be unreasonable to assume that his arm had tightened around her as he eased himself up into a sitting position.

And that was when the coughing started.

At first, Sakura thought she was hearing things, or that the walls separating each of the hotel rooms were a hell of a lot thinner than she thought. There was no way that was Itachi.

She moved as quickly as she could, tossing the blankets away for the second time in as many minutes, and turning toward the shut bathroom door so rapidly that it made her head spin, and Sakura could feel her eyes widening in real horror. It sounded horrible; awful, worse than anything she had ever heard in her life, even with her experience with the prisoners in Orochimaru's dungeons, who all suffered from severe cases of pneumonia during the frigid winters. It was like Itachi was coughing up a lung or something…it was raw and hoarse and—

Sakura's mind filled in the rest. She had seen enough sick patients in the clinic at the border town who suffered from tuberculosis…if that was what he had. She couldn't be sure; there were millions of devastating respiratory infections that thrived in the rural areas of Japan. Still, no matter what exactly it was, this kind of coughing would make him fold in on himself almost as if he was having convulsions, even though she could practically tell that Itachi was gritting his teeth to keep it as quiet as possible. He would be weak, lightheaded, out of breath. He'd have an awful headache and chances were that he was coughing up blood.

It was only after she was on the floor, her hip throbbing painfully, that Sakura realized that she had literally fallen off the bed in her haste to escape from it. That kind of clumsiness was uncharacteristic; she wasn't thinking straight.

Ignoring the pain in her hip, she grabbed at the edge of the bed desperately and clawed herself up into a standing position, staring at the shut bathroom door with panicked eyes. It sounded agonizing – she could barely listen without shuddering with pain herself, so she had to help. It didn't matter that he was her enemy by extension – she just _had _to. She didn't even care if Itachi was contagious or if she could even heal it all by herself in one go, but as a medic-nin, she couldn't just stand by and do nothing while somebody else suffered—

_Stop it, Sakura, _the one small part of her mind that was still operating rationally ordered. _Listen! Stop. Think. _This _is what Itachi must have been hiding with the chakra barrier. Even knowing that you were a medic-nin, he still hid it – if he had wanted to ask you to heal him, he would have done it already. _

All the breath left her body in a frustrated sigh, and Sakura began to pace in small, tight circles near the foot of the bed. As much as it bothered her to admit it, that was right. Itachi wanted to keep this a secret from _everybody, _to the extent that he would utilize a chakra barrier that would undoubtedly be a continuous, taxing physical strain. She had explicitly offered her services as a medic-nin, and if he had been out looking for a cure or help or even a simple evaluation or diagnosis, he would have taken advantage of that at the earliest opportunity. His failure to do so likely meant that he didn't want her help, or anybody's.

An involuntary chill raced through the length of her body, and Sakura wrapped her arms around herself, running her hands down the goosebumps that had erupted on her arms, and she bit her lip so hard that the dry skin almost cracked. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had just involuntarily stumbled on a secret so huge that it had implications of matching proportions. Just how sick was Itachi, exactly? Was this a recently-contracted, undiagnosed illness? Or an ongoing, treatable illness, like tuberculosis, that he was taking medications for? Something curable, in other words?

As opposed to…

Sakura shook her head determinedly, trying to keep her thoughts on track. There was no need to veer into the realm of irrationalities. She had to just focus on the matter at hand.

The coughing was starting to die down a little in its intensity. They were fewer and spaced farther apart, and she could hear Itachi's breathing slowly beginning to regulate. Not harsh gasps now, but more like he was slowly, rhythmically trying to take in as much air as he could in the time between coughs.

Mechanically, Sakura turned around and made herself return to the bed, awkwardly slipping into the spot that she had formerly occupied and tugging the blankets over her with hands that shook slightly and refused to cooperate like they should. Her eyes were wide open, and every part of her that was exhausted just a short time ago was now set on edge so much that it felt like she had touched a live wire. It took an effort for her to close her eyes and attempt to regulate her breathing. Fake sleep, but a disturbed sleep, because of the…noise. That was it.

On the other side of the door, Itachi took another deep, steadying breath, staring at his reflection bleakly, as he shut off the running faucet. It was hardly a comment borne out of vanity, but he looked as awful as he felt. His eyes were bloodshot, with purplish circles underneath them, and the lines that had etched themselves onto his face at a young age seemed to have deepened even further since the last time he had really taken the time to look in the mirror. His skin was an ashen, unhealthy tone, and for the first time, despite the remarkable muscle tone that he had maintained, the elder Uchiha noticed that the bones of his ribs and collarbone were becoming a little too prominent against his skin when he inhaled and exhaled. He had pulled his shirt off and flung it in the general direction of the bathtub as soon as he had stumbled across the threshold in order to prevent getting any unnecessary germs on it. He strongly doubted that Sakura was immune-compromised enough to be susceptible to this particular infection, but a little bit of extra caution had never hurt him.

Itachi blinked a few times and turned away, unable to look at himself. The memory resurfaced, unbidden – it had been at least sixteen years ago, when his shinobi training had not yet become obsessive and all-encompassing enough to engulf every aspect of his life. His mother used to love taking him out for walks in the village, and if she had one weakness – one love and passion that the clan had not stolen from her – it was shopping. At least once every month, she would buy him more clothes than were ever necessary, and he would obediently parade them in front of her, just to watch the way her eyes lit up with sheer happiness.

"_I'm sorry for boring you in all of those stores, Itachi-kun," _she would apologize, holding his hand as they returned to the Uchiha compound, and then she would ruffle his hair affectionately. _"It's just that you're probably not going to let me do this for you by the time you're all grown up, even though you'll be the most handsome man in the world by then…"_

He forced the memory away, feeling a bitter smirk twist at his lips. Right.

Itachi gingerly pulled his discarded shirt back over his head, leaning against the wall absentmindedly, and looking up at the ceiling as if it would give him strength. There were a few tremors still racing through his body, and every so often, he had to bite back an occasional, rebellious cough. He could hardly go out there without the protection provided by the chakra barrier, and at least a few more minutes were necessary to recoup even a fraction of the strength necessary to reestablish it.

A sigh escaped his throat, and Itachi lifted a hand to run his fingers though his long, tangled hair exasperatedly. He hadn't foreseen this. It had been a long time since one of the fits came on even during sleep, and so strongly that it threatened to overcome the barrier.

He had known this was coming, but the sudden realization was still enough to make the breath catch in his throat for a fraction of a second. This recent development proved that his health was still deteriorating at the steady, predictable rate that he had initially mapped out. February would begin in a mere few days. Left to natural causes, Itachi gave himself three months or so, give or take a few weeks. Perhaps he would have lived to see his twenty-first birthday.

He looked down thoughtfully. Of course, he did not intend to leave it to natural causes. Much of this was due to his plan for Sasuke's redemption, but…

Itachi frowned slightly, reaching up to press the heel of his hand against his chest, as if that would help alleviate the ever-present pressure there, and he could feel the slightest hint of sorrow pulling the corners of his mouth downwards as he involuntarily remembered what the medic-nin had told him. The last days would undoubtedly be torture beyond what he had already experienced. By the time that he intended to allow Sasuke to find him, death would be an act of mercy.

The thought hurt more than Itachi expected, and that was a surprise in itself. He had always known that, no matter what, this was when his life was meant to end. When he was five, when he had been officially diagnosed, the medics in Konoha had actually only estimated that he had ten more years. He had kept himself alive through medication and sheer force of will for the past five. He would live to fulfill his only remaining goal, to redeem Sasuke, and that should be enough for him.

This was no time to be getting sentimental and reflecting upon all that he would miss…and all that he had never received the chance to experience.

It had happened before, rarely. However, Itachi had the sneaking suspicion that the sudden re-emergence of such sentiments had somethingto do with the girl who was soundly asleep on the other side of the door.

Itachi scowled, and in a rare moment of what Kisame would call 'age-appropriate behavior,' he scuffed his foot against the floor resentfully.

It had taken him a long time to fall asleep, namely because he had been entirely absorbed in the sounds that Sakura had been making in _hers. _Evidently she had been enjoying herself.

Itachi hastily forced himself to think along different lines before he could go too far with _that _train of thought. Hopefully he hadn't been too…loud, and hopefully Sakura had been too firmly ensconced in her pleasurable dream to wake up. Regardless, it had been pure carelessness on his part. The idea of Sakura knowing about this had repercussions that he did not even want to think about.

Drawing the chakra barrier was difficult, but not as awful as it could have been, and Itachi flicked the light switch in the bathroom off, before quietly opening the door and slipping out. Sakura was curled up as she had been before; her back to him, and he felt himself relax slightly, letting out a breath he hadn't realized that he had been holding. Carefully, he joined her, pulling the discarded blankets over both of them. It was an indulgence that he did not deserve and one that he certainly felt guilty about, but after a few minutes, Itachi gently wrapped one arm around Sakura again, holding her close and pressing his cheek against her soft, fragrant hair.

It was a strange paradox – it felt incredibly nice, but at the same time, it made him feel more than a little ashamed to be doing this. It wasn't fair to Sakura or to Sasuke, and depending on how one looked at it; it wasn't fair to him, either. It was unnecessarily masochistic.

But, at the same time, it didn't mean anything. It definitely wasn't something that she would remember by the morning.

And that was when Sakura turned around, made an indistinct noise in the back of her throat, and wrapped both of her arms around him, as if she was trying to snuggle as close as humanly possible.

Itachi froze.

For her part, Sakura shut her eyes a little tighter, praying that it was plausible and he'd fall for it, as she mumbled something unclear. Part of her was aware that it was a dirty trick and it wasn't exactly fair, but she needed to know what was going on with him. Her purposes would be best served with a stethoscope, or perhaps with Itachi lying flat on his back as she conducted a full medical examination of him, but _that _wasn't going to be happening anytime soon.

The seconds slowly ticked by, and for the second time that night, Sakura had to bite her tongue to keep from reacting as she felt one of Itachi's hands coming to rest tentatively on her lower back. They were still in a bit of an awkward position, with both of them lying on their sides, and her having a death grip around his neck and her face buried into the side of his neck. But then, very slowly, as if he was trying not to wake her, Itachi slid the hand on her back all the way down the contours of her right leg (why was it that the flannel of her pants suddenly felt so…thin?), until it reached the back of her knee, before gently lifting her leg to hook around his hips as he readjusted his position so that he was lying flat on his back. She couldn't be sure, but she thought that she heard him give a quiet, almost contented-sounding, sigh.

Oh, _god. _Suddenly, Sakura was thankful that her hair was thoroughly covering her face and that, from how relaxed his muscles were and how even his breathing was, Itachi had likely fallen sound asleep. She was probably going to die a thousand deaths of humiliation before dawn; that was for sure.

Sure, it was comfortable, in the most technical sense of the word, once Sakura tried not to think about the fact that they were pressed up against each other so closely, and, save for a couple of layers of thin cotton, there was nothing between the upper half of their bodies. For the kami's sake, she was draped across Itachi Uchiha like the world's ugliest and most devious and scheming shag carpet. And, strangely enough, he had _wanted _it. He had _wanted _her practically on top of him.

This was probably the first time in her life when she had actually wanted to stop thinking for the sake of her own mental health.

Luckily, though, her plan had worked. Unwittingly, Itachi had positioned them so that her face was turned upwards, her lips pressing lightly over the side of his neck, and, more importantly, so that her right hand had come to rest somewhere over his chest…like she was holding his heart in the palm of her hand.

Inexplicably enough, the imagery made Sakura want to smile for the most fleeting of seconds. Not in the self-satisfied way that she would had felt if it had been a couple of days earlier, when she would have been reveling in the knowledge that she had made Itachi fatally vulnerable, but something else entirely. Something that she didn't fully understand.

Shaking the frivolous, unnecessary thoughts aside, she carefully directed just a tiny bit of chakra to the palm of her hand. It didn't touch the surface, and it was diagnostic chakra, not offensive…Itachi wouldn't feel it.

True enough, Sakura waited with bated breath for two minutes, and he didn't stir.

Feeling the tension in her shoulders loosen somewhat, Sakura closed her eyes, directing all of her concentration to the chakra in her hand. Kabuto-sensei had only spent a little while outlining this to her, but it was a fundamental medic-nin skill, one that she had grasped easily. Stethoscopes became unnecessary if one had the right amount of chakra control.

It only took a couple of minutes for her eyelids to slowly lift, and forgetting the fact that she was supposed to be asleep, Sakura lifted her head a few inches, staring at Itachi's chest uneasily. She knew very well the sounds that normal, healthy hearts made…especially in a static, stable condition like sleep.

_That _was not it.

She couldn't tell without a more precise sort of examination, but something was definitely wrong. Not only was it arrhythmic; normally beating too slow but then trying to speed up in a failed attempt to compensate for it, but Itachi's heartbeat was abnormally weak, to the degree that she could guess that each breath cost him ten times more effort and took ten times more of a toll on his body than it should.

Sakura withdrew, unnerved, and simply stared at him for a little while, trying to sort out her thoughts. Was it…some kind of a heart defect? She only had a passing knowledge of those, but from what she understood, heart defects could result in a severely compromised immune system, which would, in turn, make Itachi far too vulnerable to even the most common of diseases. Some of the medics in the border town next to Sound had once mentioned that it was possible to become immune-compromised enough that a person could die from something as normally treatable as pneumonia.

She felt the color starting to drain from her face again, and despite the fact that it was quite warm, sandwiched as she was between the blankets and Itachi, Sakura shivered. She shouldn't jump to conclusions. The coughing fit and the heart issue combined made for a sobering equation, but in the medical field, there were always a million different variables. Besides, she didn't know nearly as much about actual sicknesses as a more experienced medic, like Tsunade-sama, would. The coughing could be caused by the heart issues – a compromised immune system and an illness didn't necessarily have to factor in at all. And it was possible that it would even work vice versa.

Troubled, Sakura carefully lowered her head back into its previous position. She could feel Itachi's pulse point barely touching her lips when she breathed in, and she couldn't ignore how faint and almost fluttery it was. She angled her head downward, so that she wouldn't have to deal with it anymore, and belatedly, she realized that her skin felt all cold and clammy again.

Did Sasuke know that Itachi was sick? If it was a heart defect, then he had likely been suffering from it from birth. As Itachi was such a high-ranking shinobi before his…defection from Konoha, Sakura highly doubted that his condition, whatever it was, would have gone undiagnosed in the face of the rigorous physical and medical exams that all jounin and ANBU-level shinobi had to undertake.

Then again, high-level shinobi also had to undergo stringent mental competency evaluations as well. If Itachi had slipped through the cracks on those, then theoretically, he might have done the same in the other evaluations.

Sakura stared at his shoulder for a good few minutes, hyper-aware of every disjointed thought that was flooding through her head.

It all seemed to come back to one thing, though. She didn't know why exactly it should matter so much that Itachi was sick, but she couldn't shake the feeling that it did. That somehow, a lot of things hinged on what she had just discovered.

Sasuke had told her that Itachi's justification for what he had done was that he wanted to "test his strength" or something along those lines. Sakura hadn't completely discounted it at the time, because she hadn't _known _Itachi then, but now, all of her instincts were telling her, undeniably, that Itachi was not the kind of psychotic sociopath who would perform such a heinous act for that exact reason. It was a vague, ambiguous reason at that, but Sasuke had fixated on those three words with his usual obsessive hatred, refusing to acknowledge any other possibility.

But the _sickness. _That was a game-changer. Under no circumstances did people who were chronically, painfully ill, participate in wanton acts of violence to 'prove their strength.'

An image of Mikoto Uchiha drifted into her mind, and Sakura shuddered quietly. His mother, who would have most likely been the one to take care of him. He wouldn't have killed her for the reason that he had given Sasuke. Itachi wasn't…well, as ridiculous as it sounded, she was slowly opening her eyes to the fact that he was actually human, and not some kind of evil, twisted monster.

She would bet her life that Itachi hadn't killed the Uchiha clan of his own accord – that somehow, in some way, he had been pushed into doing it.

Maybe his father or the clan elders had forced him to undergo shinobi training, even though that kind of continuous, extraordinarily severe physical strain would have been torturous for somebody with Itachi's condition. It basically guaranteed an early death sentence, and Sakura involuntarily grimaced at the thought of what he might have been through. Maybe that would have made him…bitter. She could see that. She could see how somebody under that kind of strain would harbor feelings of deep resentment toward the clan that insisted on putting him through that kind of agony for their own personal gain – for the interests of the clan and their political prospects. Of not being viewed as a person, but as just a pawn in somebody else's game.

…Not a pawn, though. Ignoring the irony, Itachi would have been the queen.

That would be enough to make anybody snap. She couldn't even imagine what that would be like…living as he did for the first thirteen years of his life. She didn't even know how she would react, if she had been placed in his shoes.

Sakura closed her eyes, her mind lapsing into quiet for a while. There was something soft and unfamiliar and unpleasant tugging at her heartstrings, making her chest constrict unhappily.

No. This was not – no. Itachi didn't deserve her sympathy. It was true that he might have been through horrible things, but…he didn't have to deal with them like that. He didn't have to kill every member of his clan, save one, to finally break free of them.

_What if he did, though? _Inner Sakura returned sharply. _You barely know anything about the internal workings of the Uchiha clan. You can't even imagine the pressure put on the person destined to be the future head of the clan. _

_Whose side are you on, anyway?_

The retort was juvenile and a little immature, reminding her of the days when everything was as simple as black and white and lines drawn with toy kunai separating one side of the sandbox from the other. Inner Sakura gave her a wry look. _Try and be objective for once in your life, Sakura-chan. Maybe there are no sides in this one._

The last thought resonated in her head for longer than it should have, and Sakura sighed quietly. Without even realizing it, she stretched out the arm that was across Itachi's chest, so that she was practically embracing him closer.

She never thought that she would ever think this, but more than anything else at the moment, she wanted more time. More time _with Itachi. _She wanted to get into his head, or to coax the answers out of him. She wanted – no, she needed – to know the truth, and Sakura had the feeling that he was the only one who really held the answers she needed.

The thought, when it first occurred to her, made her spine stiffen warily.

Sasuke didn't want the kind of resolution that she sought. He didn't care about what Itachi's motivations were. He couldn't look past the fact that Itachi had killed the clan, for whatever reasons – and, no matter what, he wanted revenge. He would attack first, and never think to ask questions. Hell, he had never even asked _why. _With all the time that he had obsessively brooded over it, he never contemplated Itachi's motivations past the shallow reason that he had been given…not even the minutest fraction of how much she had in the past few days alone.

If she went through with her plan of leading Itachi to Sasuke, then the secret would die with Itachi. And that wasn't something that Sakura really wanted to live with. Despite her initial convictions, she was only now realizing that something like that would be akin to a senseless killing. Because, at least in this situation, nothing was as it seemed. Including – _especially _– Itachi's role in all of this.

Sakura bit her lip unconsciously, tilting her cheek against Itachi's shoulder. It went against everything she had initially believed, and she still couldn't believe that she was even considering such a thing, but…even Karin's chakra tracking had its limitations, and she knew them better than most. So, instead of leading Itachi _to _Sasuke, she would lead him away. Hopefully that would buy her enough time to figure out what he was hiding.

_So, you're saving Itachi now, _Inner Sakura observed cannily. _If his answers aren't _valid _enough for you, you'll lead him back to Sasuke. But if they are?_

Sakura stilled for a moment, startled.

Despite all of her earlier contemplations, was it truly possible to have a valid reason, for what he did? What if – as ridiculous as it sounded – Itachi was a fundamentally good person, who had snapped under some kind of extreme emotional provocation?

Part of her gave a short, derisive laugh. Yeah. She could attempt to tell Sasuke that as she jumped between the path of his Chidori and Itachi. Famous last words.

The smile faded off her face after a few moments, and Sakura turned a little awkwardly; no matter how she moved, she couldn't exactly escape the Itachi man-trap that she seemed to have fallen into. In more ways than one.

If it came down to it; if it became necessary…would she fight for Itachi? Defend him? Would she confront Sasuke and risk his hatred, and any chance she would have ever had with him?

_Sasuke isn't worth the life of an innocent man. _

…_Or, at least, a man who committed a crime, but somehow, doesn't deserve to die for it. _

The realization of her, of _her, _of all people, willingly admitting that, was as shocking as being pushed, naked and vulnerable, into a sea of icy water. Sakura closed her eyes tightly, feeling an entirely different kind of heaviness settle into her heart.

She would deal with that bridge when she came to it.

* * *

_The Next Day_

* * *

From her rough approximation of the time that they had checked out of their hotel and left the town together, and how long they had been traveling since then (she measured that roughly by how blue she thought her toes were turning, by now), Sakura guessed that it was a few hours since noon. Of course, she couldn't really _tell,_ because the blizzard had totally obscured the sun.

Great.

She had barely slept at all after her little revelation as to Itachi's illness. Taking advantage of the fact that _he _seemed to be soundly asleep – the coughing fit must have really taken it out of him – she had wormed her way out of his embrace right after sunrise, left the hotel by way of the window, and sprinted through as much of the forest as she could, installing her radio-tracker devices at random intervals. Hopefully Sasuke and the others would wander into the range at some point, so she would know from where to head in the opposite direction.

It had been a smart move on her part, yes, but now the exhaustion was beginning to tell on her. The howling, razor-sharp wind and fighting her way through the knee-deep snowdrifts didn't make things any easier, either, and the wind was getting worse by the moment. The exposed skin on her face was getting raw and painful, and the denim material of her pants felt like it had frozen to her skin. She'd literally have to peel them off.

From the few cryptic mumblings that Itachi had given her, Sakura had a sneaking suspicion that he was leading the two of them in the general direction of the Akatsuki headquarters. Personally, she didn't really care. It didn't matter where they were going – either way, she would get the answers she wanted.

Luckily, Itachi seemed to be in the habit of masking his chakra as they traveled, and she had followed suit. Before the two of them had left the hotel, she had even sprayed every single small complimentary bottle of perfume over every inch of her clothing, which should serve to confuse Karin's tracking methods even more. Sakura felt a little guilty for it – even if Sasuke would probably be more concerned with finding Itachi, she knew that Suigetsu, Jugo, and Karin would be worried for her.

The skeletal forest was even more eerie than usual today, Sakura observed absentmindedly as she crunched through the snow, and she couldn't help wondering if Sasuke had been decent enough to allow the group to get a room at some inn until the storm had passed.

She was so lost in thought that when Itachi suddenly stopped dead, she crashed into his back. For a fraction of a second, her shoulders tensed in immediate, overwhelming worry – was he about to start coughing or something? The bitter cold couldn't be easy for him, but if it really came down to it, she could warm him up quickly with her chakra if she had to.

But then he held out his arm with startling speed, preventing her from stepping forward. "Don't move," Itachi ordered, so quietly that she could barely hear him over the wind.

The seriousness of his tone was enough to give Sakura a moment's pause, but before she could even look up at him querulously, the reason for Itachi's sudden alarm stepped out of what appeared to be thin air.

The sudden materialization was almost enough to make her jump, and Sakura stepped back defensively. He was a shinobi, she noticed immediately, his forehead protector emblazoned with the insignia of Lightning. Her eyes flickered over him quickly and clinically, even though her throat closed over with trepidation. _Shit. _He had enough weaponry on him to qualify as a walking armory. A good deal of it was concealed, but he had two long, wickedly-sharp kunai expertly twined in the fingers of each hand, and had an unpleasant smile to match. Sakura's gaze lit on his uniformly black combat attire, and she had to fight the urge to flinch. Kabuto-sensei had mentioned the significance of this kind of clothing once. Their prospective opponent was a member of Lightning's equivalent of Konoha's ANBU. Except that – lucky them – in almost all shinobi circles, Lightning's Special Ops were considered to be more skilled and self-sufficient, since they worked solo and didn't run with three-to-four person teams.

Well, they _were _near the Land of Lightning, some distant part of her was able to observe. It was only natural that they run into patrolling shinobi eventually – it had been a miracle she hadn't happened upon any thus far, anyway. And Lightning shinobi would recognize an Akatsuki member out of the Bingo Book by virtue of their distinctive cloaks alone…but no Konoha shinobi would dare engage _the _Itachi alone. Apparently his infamy wasn't international. No wonder this guy had thought he could try something. Hell, by walking out in the open, the two of them had practically been begging for something like this to happen.

Itachi hadn't moved a muscle, but that wasn't exactly Sakura's concern. The Lightning shinobi was looking at the two of them with a distinctly predatory glint in his eyes. "Well, well," he drawled slowly. "Wouldn't it be nice if my village was the first to take down a member of the Akatsuki?"

_Overconfident, _was Sakura's first thought, and she didn't realize that she had muttered it under her breath until she felt both Itachi and the other man's gazes lock disbelievingly on her.

The smile was gone now, and the Lightning shinobi narrowed his eyes at her dangerously. "And wouldn't it be absolutely _wonderful _to warm up by getting rid of his mouthy little girlfriend first?" he asked, every syllable dripping poison.

Sakura gave him a smirk that was practically Sasuke-worthy, pushing past Itachi and stepping forward. "Try me."

Itachi was able to take in two things in the same instant – one, that behind Sakura's back, she was already three out of five hand-seals into a jutsu that would knock the man into instant unconsciousness, while delivering as much physical pain as getting one's skull beat with a sledgehammer multiple times. He would wake up a few hours later with the worst headache of his life and so disoriented he wouldn't be able to walk in a straight line for a while.

Two – that the Lightning shinobi's fingers had tensed more on the kunai of his left hand, further away from Sakura's line of vision, than they had on the right hand. He would let them fly in less time than it would take for Sakura to complete her jutsu, and he was aiming to kill – and she appeared to have no idea what was happening. Itachi did not blame her; without the Sharingan, the minute movement would have been invisible to the naked eye.

If she had blinked, she would have missed it.

But right before her eyes, so quickly that she hadn't even seen him _move, _Itachi had pinned the Lightning shinobi face-first against a tree, simultaneously disarming him and deftly hitting several pressure points that had rendered his muscles limp and seemingly useless, and Sakura's breath caught in her throat. "What—" she blurted, stunned. She had never seen him in combat before, and even though Sasuke had told her that he was fast, she hadn't ever imagined that anybody could be _that _fast.

In spite of the gravity of the situation, Itachi felt his face warming slightly. Her reaction was almost…flattering.

Cursing his inattention and unnecessarily frivolous thoughts at the same time that the Lightning shinobi continued to swear under his breath, even though he was trembling with fright, Itachi suddenly became aware of the weight of Sakura's gaze leveling on him. Or, more accurately, the kunai he held in his hand; one of the four that he had wrested from the other shinobi's grasp.

It was only then that the full realization of the situation that he had gotten himself into hit him, and Itachi felt his shoulders stiffen as he fought the urge to swallow over his suddenly dry throat.

Of course Sakura expected him to kill the Lightning-nin. Either with the weapon or with one of the 'torture' genjutsu that he had earned such a reputation for. That was what was expected of him – as Itachi Uchiha, the infamous Akatsuki member, the S-ranked criminal…what was killing one defenseless man? She probably imagined that he could do things like this blindfolded, with one hand tied behind his back, and, more than that, that he would feel absolutely _no_ compunction about doing this. About ending a life of a person who had a life, a family, friends, maybe even somebody whom he loved and loved him in return…

After all, if he was capable of killing his own flesh and blood, what was the life of one stranger to him? Undoubtedly Sakura thought that he was as capable of murdering innocents as he was of breathing.

It was essential to the pretense, to the _image_, that he do this. If Sakura saw a moment of weakness; if she even suspected that for the briefest of seconds, that he was unwilling to kill a man, the entire farce that he had built around himself would begin to crumble, slowly and steadily.

Itachi forced himself to think about it. About letting his fingers tighten around the handle and bring the point to the man's neck and ending it, in one quick motion. It wouldn't even be too painful. He hadn't killed since…that night. One man's life as a price to pay for keeping his plan, of Sasuke's fate and his, in line.

A wave of visible revulsion flooded through him, the nausea making his stomach turn over, and Itachi almost let go of the Lightning shinobi entirely. He couldn't. He couldn't believe that he had even _considered _it. He disgusted himself.

In a weak attempt to mask the moment of weakness, Itachi spun around to Sakura, and for the sake of his own sanity, pretended that he did not see the shock in her eyes. "Finish your technique," he snapped, his voice uncharacteristically roughened by strain.

She couldn't believe she was arguing with him, but the whole thing was just so…incomprehensible. "But—"

"_Now."_

His tone was harsher than she would have expected from him, and for some reason, it made her want to flinch. "Fine!" Sakura yelled back, regardless of the fact that it was irrational to get so upset, and that part of her couldn't believe that she had actually snapped at Itachi, of all people.

She completed the remaining hand seals in silence, and when the Lightning shinobi groaned once, his eyes rolling back in his head and his body going entirely motionless, Itachi dropped him as if his hands had been burned by the contact.

For the next several miles, Itachi walked much faster than she did, every single fiber of his body language radiating a kind of tension and downright anger that she hadn't yet seen from him. Eventually, he slowed down enough to let her catch up, even though he still seemed to be refusing to look at her.

The thoughts were spinning around relentlessly in her head, and even though it was tactless, Sakura couldn't keep her confusion under wraps. It just didn't make sense – all shinobi were capable of killing with relative ease, and regardless of the provocation, Itachi _had _killed his family. And yet, he wasn't willing to get rid of a stranger? Killing was killing. Killing _family _was something else entirely. How could he be emotionally capable of the latter but not the former? It didn't make sense.

"Did you know him?" she demanded at last, deciding that she didn't care about the repercussions.

Itachi glanced down at her. "No," he bit out, the one syllable clearly telling her that he had no desire to continue the conversation.

Sakura tried to remember the Lightning shinobi's face. Not quite as tall as Itachi; quite muscular, chin-length black hair, thin lips, dark eyes…and her eyes widened in realization.

"Did he remind you of Sasuke?" she inquired tentatively.

The cold, quelling look that Itachi sent her then was enough to make her feel like a contrite little girl again, and Sakura fell absolutely silent, not looking up from the snow for a long while.

When he finally spoke again, the words were cool and distant. "There is a cave slightly ahead on our path, and the storm is getting so severe that we will be unable to travel further today."

"…Oh. Okay."

They continued in silence, and Sakura let him lead the way. She was feeling the cold now, even though at the same time, she was beginning to feel strangely detached. Like her body was operating on autopilot, so that her entire mind could devote itself to the strangeness that was unfolding, and try to make sense of it.

The cave's mouth was concealed by a thick layer of snow, which Itachi melted through with a Katon, before making his way inside. The ease in which he did everything made her think he had traveled this route before, complete with rendezvous in the cave and everything. She had never been in anything like it, but it was pretty nondescript – expansive, dark, cold stone.

Itachi headed straight for the back, and after a moment's hesitation, she followed him. They both took a seat against the far wall, sitting a good distance apart and looking straight out towards the cave's distant mouth, and Sakura couldn't help but shiver once, gritting her teeth to keep them from chattering. She couldn't feel the wind in here, but the still air was frigid and icy nevertheless.

A humorless smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth. If this was one of Karin's dumbass romance novels, this would be where she and Itachi would take their clothes off and huddle together for warmth, because supposedly, that was what one did in a situation like this. Because there were _no other _ways to effectively warm up and prevent hypothermia and stuff, right?

Of course. But, to be fair, the female leads in Karin's dumbass romance novels weren't young, innovative kunoichi.

Sakura pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on top of her knees, and going perfectly still. It took a few moments of concentration, but she was able to pull as much chakra to every available inch of her body as she could, and the warming effect was instantaneous. She felt like she was _melting_, for the kami's sake, and it was beautiful.

She closed her eyes, feeling her muscles beginning to relax, and she was barely conscious of the minutes slowly ticking by. It wouldn't be a bad night.

After a while, though, she felt something unfamiliar, and cautiously, Sakura looked up through her lowered eyelashes. It took a second for what she was seeing and feeling to register, and it was a testament to her degree of self-control that she was able to keep her body completely still.

Itachi was kneeling beside her, somewhat awkwardly draping his Akatsuki cloak over her like a blanket. _Oh, _Sakura realized, feeling a little bit stupid. From his perspective, of course it would look like she was huddled into herself because she was slowly freezing to death.

Underneath the cloak, he wore only the usual black pants and a long-sleeved dark green shirt, with what looked like his typical mesh shirt underneath that. As she watched discreetly, she could actually see a tremor from the cold make its way down the length of his arm.

Apparently satisfied with himself, Itachi returned to his previous spot, and when he closed his eyes and drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, tilting his head back against the cave's wall so that his long, somewhat disarrayed ponytail fell over one shoulder, he looked so…young. Before Sakura even noticed what she was doing, her eyes had traced over his profile a few times, the same unfamiliar feeling as before returning to her chest.

Even though wearing Akatsuki colors made her a little sick, the cloak was surprisingly heavy and comfortably warm. And it smelled like pine and spearmint and smoke and ash, like him. Maybe it was just that she had been _sleeping _with that scent for a while, but it was almost comforting.

Why was he so nice to her? And especially…why was he nice when he thought she wasn't looking?

Sakura opened her eyes before she could think better of it, glancing over at him. "Hey."

It was awkwardly spoken and a little too loud, and it made her wince a little, but Itachi did look over at her, the faintest trace of surprise in his eyes, and Sakura made herself pull the cloak off as gracefully as possible. "I don't need this."

Itachi didn't do her the great honor of replying; instead going back to studying the nearest rock as if it was of great scientific interest to him, and Sakura couldn't ignore the visible shiver that made his shoulders tremble for half a second.

Scowling, she inched her way over to him, and even though her stupid idea was enough to make the saner parts of her grimace, it was the only way to get her point across.

She flung her arms around his neck, latching herself to his side and burying her head in his chest. Itachi went completely still, but then a surprised sound actually worked his way free of his throat, and completely involuntarily, he realized that he was wrapping his arms around Sakura, pulling her closer and holding her tightly. She was as warm as a furnace. He was familiar with this technique; Kisame did this to his hands when he really needed to heat up a bowl of miso soup in a hurry. It required an extremely great deal of chakra control, though, and it was a technique that he had never fully grasped.

For a few minutes, they sat like that in utter silence. Sakura was surprised at how calm she was. How not-panicky and not unsettled. But Itachi holding her like this suddenly reminded her, all too unpleasantly, of the dream, and she had to fight the urge to shy away from him. That wouldn't do, though. Symptoms of any sickness were aggravated by intense cold, and for what she was about to start, it actually suited her purposes, being so close to him.

After what Sakura judged to be an appropriate time, she untangled herself from Itachi in order to retrieve the Akatsuki cloak, and even though the action made her heart skip a nervous beat, she pulled it over the two of them as he had done to her just a little while ago. She felt him draw away a fraction of an inch, his self-consciousness about their impromptu embrace palpable, and it triggered her own doubts about what she was going to do.

"Don't." To her surprise, her voice was reassuringly calm and self-assured, and Sakura managed to reach up and re-anchor herself around him. She felt Itachi's breath catch in his throat, and even though she could bet he didn't consciously want to, even though it was probably against his better judgment, he reached for her as well. "This feels…okay."

Sakura made it so the words were directed more towards herself, but Itachi tensed up, surprised, anyway. He moved his head a little uncertainly, like he was trying to decide whether to look away or not, but the movement ended up making his lips brush her hair lingeringly.

Both Itachi and Sakura were too busy masking their involuntary shivers to notice that the gesture had an identical effect on the other.

Trying her best to calm herself down, Sakura leaned toward him a little bit more, letting her cheek press against where Itachi's right shoulder met his chest. His hand tentatively moved a little further up her back, so that it touched the ends of her hair.

"You didn't seem to want to kill the Lightning shinobi," Sakura said, as softly, soothingly, and non-threateningly as she could. He didn't react physically, and she felt a flush of relief that she had managed to set him so much at ease. Maybe this would actually work. "And you're much kinder to me than Sasuke has ever been, and I've known him for most of my life."

These words, especially, were too true, and it made the backs of her eyes sting and her throat close over. She felt a long, slow breath leave Itachi's chest. Sakura doubted he noticed, but he rubbed his thumb in gentle circles against her back, as if he knew how much it hurt her to admit that.

"…And, when you had the chance, you didn't kill him."

The words were more tentative this time, like she was stepping on a lake covered with a very thin layer of ice.

"You encouraged _him _to pursue _you_, and even though you supposedly let him live because you two were rivals, _you've _never sought him out for a confrontation."

Itachi's arm tightened around her waist, but not warningly or threateningly.

Sakura sat up straight and looked up at him very seriously, and Itachi didn't flinch when she reached out slowly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. "All of my instincts are telling me this, and I'll be honest: I don't think you are who Sasuke says that you are," she said, very carefully.

Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to turn away, turn away _now_; to stop this before it escalated to the place he didn't want it to go.

Sakura persisted, though, and when Itachi did look away from her, she reached out, touching the line of his jaw gently and guiding his face back to her. For the first time, she could actually read his expression, and he looked hurt and tired and almost defeated.

Sakura didn't anticipate the sudden, sharp way that made her heart hurt, and it wasn't calculation that made her stroke her thumb so lightly across the defined contours of his pale cheekbone, as if silently willing him to feel better. Her eyes sought his, and absentmindedly, she wondered if her gaze held as much pain as his did.

Itachi knew the question was coming, but her seven quietly spoken words still made his heartbeat still for a few seconds.

"…Why did you really kill them, Itachi?"

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

Firstly, thank you so much to everybody who was sweet enough to leave birthday wishes on the last chapter! Being seventeen's been awesome so far, and hopefully it'll last for another year. Also, thank you _times infinity _to the incredible SwiftKick, who was fabulous enough to read this chapter over for me…therefore saving everybody from a shocking amount of stupid typos. If you haven't already, check out her profile for some great ItaSaku stuff!

You know, I absolutely love hearing what you guys have to say. So, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :)


	9. Fire

_As always, thank you to everybody who was splendid enough to review. :)_

_Chapter Nine: Fire_

* * *

She hated Sasuke. _Despised _Sasuke. Sure, he was the hottest guy she had ever laid eyes on (even though the thought made her feel quite guilty…Suigetsu was a close second, but _still_) and his chakra was a ten on her scale, but Karin had never been so glad that she had decided not to pursue him romantically. Because, hell, despite the fact that he was physically irresistible, he was still an asshole.

Jugo was freaking _blue _and Suigetsu's sharp teeth were chattering at a mile a minute, and Sasuke still hadn't let them stop for so much as a hot drink. Hell, they hadn't eaten all day. They had been traveling without rest for ages, even after the blizzard struck, and that was how they had ended up here, in some fairly affluent town on the edge of Stone. Karin was on the verge of ripping her hair out with frustration – Sakura's chakra signature had disappeared, save for the faintest of trails…so much that all they had to go on was Jugo's composite sketches. It was a good thing that she had such outrageously memorable pink hair…

"This is fucking ridiculous," she muttered quietly, as the four of them strode down the deserted main street.

Unfortunately, Sasuke heard, and he glanced back at her, giving her a cold, cutting look. "Is your resolve wavering already, Karin?" he asked snidely.

She fought the urge to bare her teeth at him. "No," she retorted. "It's just that, if you let us at least wait somewhere until the blizzard dies down, there's less of a chance of us losing our bearings and totally losing Sakura's trail."

"We can't get much further in this weather, Sasuke," Jugo cut in sensibly, even though his entire body was shaking spasmodically.

Sasuke looked back and forth between the members of his team, letting his gaze linger on each of them, before he turned back around, the breath leaving his body in a frustrated sigh. "Fine," he said shortly.

He made a sharp, immediate turn left, apparently into the first appropriate establishment he saw, leading them through the glass doors and into the expansive lobby of one of the numerous hotels that lined the town's side streets. At first glance, Karin could tell that it was one of the higher-end establishments: chandelier, expensive gold décor, plush red carpeting. It was luxury that she had never even seen before, and even though she didn't want to look like the small-town girl that she was, her eyes widened appreciatively.

The clerk sitting behind the large, hand-carved oak desk was a young man with short, elaborately styled red hair and pale, thin-framed rectangular glasses. Even though Karin could guess that a group of extremely weather-battered teenagers wasn't the customary clientele for a place like this, he still nodded at them politely, doing a good job of shelving his surprise. "What can I do for you four tonight?"

"We'll need one room for tonight only," Sasuke replied brusquely, reaching into one of the inner pockets of the dark flak vest that he wore.

The clerk inclined his head, accepting the money gracefully as he searched his registry for an available room. "With luck, the storm will have abated by the morning. I only have one suite available, sir, although I do not think it will prove to be a problem – double rooms, sharing one bathroom. Third floor, room 301."

Sasuke nodded curtly, accepting the keys without a word.

His bad mood was practically radiating off him in waves that supplemented the darkness of his chakra, and Karin bit her lip. Suigetsu and Jugo looked as concerned as she felt, and in an attempt to calm him down so that the entire coming night wouldn't be utterly insufferable, Suigetsu turned back to the clerk, unceremoniously tugging one of the scrolls out of Jugo's hands. He unrolled it with a quick snap, allowing the drawing of Sakura to fall free. "One thing, before we head up – have you seen this girl?"

Sasuke sighed quietly, despite the disparaging look that Karin sent him. He appreciated Suigetsu's efforts, but…it was common sense, really. Sakura was traveling alone with absolutely no currency whatsoever. She would never be able to get a room in a place like this.

The idea took root in his mind in just an instant, and before the clerk even had a chance to properly look over the picture, Sasuke stepped forward, pulling the scroll that that contained the sketch of Itachi out of the inside of his flak jacket. He released the fastening in one smooth movement, and the rice paper unraveled quickly, so that the flawless rendition of Itachi fluttered next to Sakura's. "Or, perhaps more accurately, have you seen this man?" the younger Uchiha inquired, although the muscles in his jaw twitched at the very thought of Itachi…of the fact that he was possibly occupying the same space as Itachi had; retracing his brother's path as he received his keys and walked toward the nearby elevators.

The clerk's eyes widened, his gaze skipping between the two sketches. There was a thick, sudden tension in the lobby, and for the first time, he noticed the shapes of concealed weapons underneath all four teenagers' winter clothing. He took a small, unconscious step backwards, racking his brain for the familiar faces he saw before him.

"Actually, I have," he acknowledged slowly, squinting his eyes at them.

Sasuke exhaled impatiently, rolling up Itachi's drawing again in one terse movement. "Uh, which one?" Suigetsu asked quickly.

The clerk tilted his head at the two of them, looking a little confused. "Both of them. They checked out this morning, together – shared a room on the top floor, actually."

It took a moment for the words to sink in. When they did, Sasuke's heart stopped beating, and for a few seconds, there was utter, deathly stillness in the lobby.

He couldn't even formulate a single thought. When he tried to take a step forward, the world spun crazily beneath his feet, and Sasuke blinked, trying to clear the dark spots that had suddenly stolen over his vision.

There was a roaring, rushing sound in his ears, and maybe he had gone deaf as well, because Suigetsu, Jugo, and Karin were staring at him like he was in the process of growing rhino horns out of his forehead, and their lips were moving – they looked so very worried – but he couldn't hear anything.

And then Karin pushed Suigetsu and Jugo aside roughly, slamming her pack down on the floor, and her eyes were wide and anxious. Sasuke could see her lips moving urgently as she leaned over to the clerk, looking like she was barely restraining herself from grabbing him by the collar and screeching her inquiry at the top of her lungs, and finally, he could hear the other man's reply, but very, very faintly.

A pink-haired girl and a man wearing a red-and-black cloak. Together. Yes. He was absolutely certain, and he would bet his life on it.

Oh, _kami._

Sasuke's stomach turned over, and a small, despairing, disbelieving sound that _couldn't _have come from him forced its way past his throat.

His vision blacked out again, and for the second time in his entire life, his mind shut down completely, unable to comprehend what it had just heard.

* * *

When his eyes snapped open, he was in a room with Suigetsu, Jugo, and Karin. They had sat him down on some kind of couch, and their concerned touches and voices were all over him, but he couldn't concentrate on that.

It was replaying in his head again. Scenes from that horrible night. His parents' still, lifeless bodies, and Itachi's cold, dead voice, and the screaming, oh, _god,_ the screaming. He could hear himself whimpering, like the frightened child that he had been all those years ago. Nothing had changed. He was still helpless; still powerless to stop the events that were unfolding around him.

Sasuke fell forward convulsively, gripping his hair in his hands so hard that a few strands were separated at the roots, and curling into himself so rigidly that even his teammates' combined efforts couldn't get him to sit up straight and relax. His breathing was so loud and harsh and ragged that it echoed in the still room, and every gasp for breath felt like a tortured scream.

Sakura. Her face flashed through his mind over and over again, sweet and smiling and exotically beautiful as she was, and it was clever and resourceful and even though for some reason she didn't enjoy knowing she had that kind of power over others, she could kill a man with five hand seals.

She wouldn't stand a chance against…him.

Of course Itachi would have heard, somehow, that when he had defected from Konoha, he hadn't been alone…that he had foolishly allowed somebody else to be sucked into the dark descent into madness that Sound had been, for him. Itachi would have rightly assumed that, since he brought her along, that he…well, that he cared about Sakura, in his own limited way, as much as he could care for anybody.

And that was why he had made her a target.

Itachi had destroyed everything that he cared about. Ripped it apart and mutilated it and obliterated it. _To test his strength. _To prove his power. And now he had Sakura, and he was going to—

"No," Sasuke muttered feverishly as he began to rock back and forth, raking his hair back with his fingers, and he felt the blood beginning to drain from his face. "No, no, no—"

Somebody grabbed his shoulder, saying his name firmly, over and over again, and he jerked back spasmodically, a sound halfway between a snarl and a hiss ripping free of his throat. His entire body was overcome with tremors, and his eyes and the curse seal burned as they never had before.

One of the others – no, _two _of the others – shoved him against the back of the sofa roughly, holding him down, despite how he lashed out blindly, his fists and fingernails making contact with the fabric of their coats and ripping them through. They sounded more upset than he had ever heard them. "Sasuke, man, we're really sorry for this, but Karin's worried you're having a mental break—"

And before Sasuke could even fight for another shuddering breath, Karin's hand was on the back of his neck, and her voice was higher-pitched than usual, and unsteady. "Sasuke, look, please cooperate – I'm sorry, but I'm doing this for your own good. You'll thank me when you come around, I promise."

In the next instant, the darkness overcame him again.

* * *

_Northern Region of Stone_

* * *

It took a few seconds for Itachi's heart to start beating again, and detachedly, he realized that he wouldn't have been more stunned if Sakura had slapped him across the face without warning.

All too suddenly, he was subtly fighting to catch his breath. Sakura hadn't even blinked; she was staring at him patiently, with her wide, too-perceptive eyes, and Itachi could see that she was waiting for any sort of reaction on his part with bated breath.

The tense silence and stillness stretched between them, forming a blanket much heavier and more uncomfortable than the Akatsuki cloak that Sakura had thrown around over them. Despite herself, she flinched when Itachi readjusted his positioning minutely, even though the movements were slow and obviously meant not to startle her. He wouldn't look her in the eye as he gently took both of her hands in his own, lightly tracing his thumbs over her knuckles and the backs of her hands, before carefully interlacing their fingers.

Sakura's breath caught in her throat, and she couldn't help but lean back a fraction of an inch, unnerved…both by the tenderness and unexpectedness of the gesture, and at the same time, how _right _it felt. She and Sasuke had never indulged in something as simple and intimate as holding hands, but she realized now that she liked it. A lot. Her hands warmed Itachi's, and they were so much smaller, compared to the length of his fingers and the broadness of his palms. They both stared at their interlocked hands, and even though her head was pounding in reaction to the sustained tension, she glanced up at Itachi warily.

His face was contorting a little, like there were words forming in his mouth that he didn't like the feel of, and he looked…well, _torn _was the only way to describe it, although it didn't do full justice to the conflict that was written all over his face. Sakura squeezed his hands as lightly and reassuringly as she could, frantically wondering whether there was a way to gently push Itachi to it without it backfiring and having the opposite effect by making him clam up again.

Itachi's lips parted despite himself, and he hastily closed them again, looking back toward the mouth of the cave in an attempt to distract himself. There was a vice-like tightening sensation building in his chest, driving the breath from his body and nearly making him nauseous. The unfamiliar emotions making his heart seize up and his skin tremble, regardless of Sakura's warmth, took a moment to identify. He was furious with himself, for so many reasons…reasons he couldn't fully understand. He had kept this secret for seven agonizing years, _seven years,_ and _this _close to the end, only a short while after coming to know Sakura, he had slipped up so fatally and inexcusably. And, for the first time in recent memory, he was actually _angry. _Angry that he had allowed his iron-clad self-control to slip like this, and above all, angry that, for a fraction of a second, he had been within an inch of spilling the whole sordid tale out.

It was disgusting and pitiable and, more than that, _pathetic_, that he allowed himself to be so influenced by Sakura's soft words; her touch; the coaxing expression in her vivid green eyes. That, after such a long time spent living this horrifying lie, he had very nearly confessed his secret just because a pretty girl had _asked him nicely. _

It was just that – for a fraction of a second, he had seen what would have happened if he allowed himself to let his guard down. To tell her the truth. She would have been stunned and maybe disbelieving, but then it would have followed a predictable pattern. He would have convinced her, and she would have believed him. And that, more than anything else, would leave them on equal footing. Once essentially absolved of her responsibility to despise him, Sakura might have even…

Itachi closed his eyes tightly, rapidly shutting down that train of thought. _Stop, for that way lies madness, _his mind quoted, somewhat irrationally_. _He had sacrificed so much already. What was one more? One more possibility, one more could-have-been. He could not allow such weakness in himself.

Sakura watched him, somewhat bewildered, but not daring to pull away. She couldn't tear her eyes away from him for more than the time it took to blink. It was like she had pulled him to the edge of a precipice, and if one of them made the slightest movement, it could send both of them toppling over.

Finally, without opening his eyes, Itachi slowly lifted her hands up a few inches, still keeping them locked with his. Sakura felt her muscles tense imperceptibly – she couldn't see what he was doing; he had inclined his head so that his long hair fell over his face, shielding it from full view, but it took all of her self-control not to jump back when he actually brushed his lips along the knuckles of both of her hands. The feather-light touch felt electrifying, and her heart was beating so fast that it felt like it was going to implode. There were words rising in her throat, but she swallowed them down reflexively.

When Itachi finally looked back up at her, she was startled by the expression in his dark gray eyes; intense like she had never seen them before. He swallowed visibly a few times, glancing down, before locking gazes with her again, in a way that seemed like he was silently pleading with her to understand.

"You are the only one that I have told this, and it is just because I would like at least one person to know. Sakura, from the beginning to the end," Itachi said, slowly and deliberately, his voice even lower than usual, "…I did what I thought was right."

There were a few more heartbeats of silence before he slowly untangled their fingers, glancing off into the shadows, and even though her heart had leaped into her throat, Sakura still noticed how completely mute Itachi had seemed to have rendered himself. Like he had absolutely no intention of saying anything further.

Too disturbed by what she had just heard to care about anything as trivial as pride, Sakura reached out, grabbing his hands and tugging on them insistently, practically forcing him to turn around and look at her. Itachi didn't even flinch when they were suddenly nose-to-nose, or close to it, her hands fisting in the material of his shirt. "What?" she demanded, feeling her face flush with something approaching anger. His words implied that he thought killing his entire family had been the _right _course of action, even though his body language was saying the exact opposite.

Itachi looked at her calmly, before detaching her fingers from his shirt, and even though he tried, he couldn't bring himself to let go of her hands as easily as he would have liked. "That is it, Sakura," he replied, his tone a parody of its usual noncommittal manner, and each word made him ache in a way that had nothing to do with the cold and the sickness.

Sakura went stock-still, studying him clinically, her eyes scanning over his face as if she was trying to read him like one of her volumes of medical knowledge. At last, her eyes blazed, and Itachi could see the effort she was exerting to even inhale calmly without slamming a fist-sized crater in the cave wall.

"You did what you thought was right," the pink-haired kunoichi echoed flatly, and even though she was thinking as hard as she could, trying to connect the dots in her mind, she didn't want to play word games or mind games or whatever Itachi wanted her to do. She just wanted the truth, and she refused to believe that it was as simple as what he had just told her.

Itachi inclined his head a fraction of an inch, and Sakura fought the frustration rising up within her. She made herself take a deep breath in, leaning forward and refusing to let him break eye contact. This was a mind game, and she would not lose. The answer was there somewhere; it just had to be found.

"You did what was right for you," Sakura spoke, slowly and carefully, keeping her sharp gaze trained on him for any sign of reaction. "Because, from such a young age, the clan forced you to train as a shinobi and pushed you to heights that most grown men have difficulty achieving, even though your…" she paused abruptly, unsure whether she wanted him to know that she knew about the sickness. "…Your, um, physical, emotional, and mental health was severely damaged by what they were making you do…and they pushed you too far."

Apart from the slight lapse, the words came out as understanding and confident as she had hoped, and Sakura held her breath, but Itachi's face remained as impassive and unchanging as glass.

She reached out, taking his hand and rubbing her thumb in soft circles around the inside of his palm, sitting back on her knees. Her head ached, but Sakura's mind was working frantically. She had been the second smartest kid at the Academy; arguably the most book-smart and overtly intelligent of her teammates and friends in Sound as well. Kabuto-sensei had often told her that there were adult logistics analysts who would envy her sheer tenacity. For her entire life, there had been no problem; mathematical or logical or analytical, that she couldn't solve. The answer was here, somewhere, and she would find the solution. There had to be a way in.

"You did what you thought was right for Sasuke," Sakura commented, and the words came out softer than usual. The implications of this one disturbed her more than anything else. "Because if you didn't do anything to stop them, the clan would do the same thing to Sasuke as they did to you, and you didn't want – you couldn't stand the thought of them doing that to your own little brother."

Both of Sakura's hypotheses struck too close to home for Itachi's comfort, but this one especially sent a dark shiver down his spine, and he pulled away from her, bringing his hand back to himself. At once, it was worrying and reassuring – worrying that she was coming up with such strong reasoning, and reassuring that she had listened to his words (the closest to the truth that he had ever spoken to anybody) and given them serious thought. If Sakura considered the bigger picture…

It made Itachi wonder, fleetingly, why she was trying so very hard to justify his actions, such _horrible _actions; actions he would never forgive or come to peace with himself for, when she had originally loathed and condemned him as much as Sasuke had. It was becoming obvious that Sakura had more perceptiveness and depth that he had given her credit for.

…Nothing.

Sakura had to bite her tongue hard to keep her frustrated sigh from escaping, and she stared up at him, feeling more…well, more deep, actual _despair _than she had ever anticipated. There was no reaction. She had gotten nowhere. Her heart felt weighed down and her throat was tightening and closing over, and why did it matter so much to her? Itachi refusing to disclose any real information was just him signing his own death sentence, so—

Bad choice of words. The thought triggered a reaction in her that she would have never expected. For the first time, she was the one to turn away abruptly, and Sakura was thankful for the coverage that her long hair provided as it swung forward, hiding her face.

She was so pathetic.

Itachi had been the only guy – besides Naruto, Suigetsu, and Jugo, who were like brothers to her, anyway – who had ever treated her nicely. Like a _girl; _somebody worthy of attention, consideration and care; not just a tool or a convenience to simply have nearby, use when it was suitable, and ignore the rest of the time. And Itachi, the one who was so kind to her, just happened to be the person who had killed almost his whole family, and she was so misguided that she was desperate to find an excuse for him. A reason behind what he did; a justification for his actions. And that was why this was hurting her so much. _He _was the one who was resisting her attempts to try and make what he had done a little bit less wrong.

And, to be honest, was what she was doing as much for Itachi as it was for her? To make her feel better about potentially growing closer to a mass murderer who had, oh, only done it because it was _the right thing to do_? Which made everything okay. _Of course. _

And now she was upset because Itachi wasn't telling her what she so badly wanted to hear…and by the knowledge that he might not be the misunderstood nice guy she thought he was.

She closed her eyes tightly, unwilling to face the truth. Her mind was a mess. _She _was a mess, end of story.

Sakura lifted her fingers up to run them through her hair, trying to keep herself under control, even though her eyes stung with repressed tears of utter frustration and anger.

Itachi watched her quietly, even though it felt more than a little masochistic to be doing so. His instincts demanded that he reach out and at least touch her shoulder comfortingly, but he knew that it was impossible. He had missed his chance – and that was a good thing. For both of their own good, Sakura had to go back to distrusting him. If things were any different, it would only be more painful in the end.

The elder Uchiha forced himself to turn away, staring at the opposite wall. For a few minutes, there was utter quiet in the cave, broken only by the distant sound of the wind's howling.

…And then he felt something tugging gently on his sleeve, right above his elbow. It was light, plaintive, and insistent, and even though Itachi knew that it couldn't be; it reminded him so powerfully of Sasuke that it made his vision blur momentarily. How many times had he been studying the complex, mind-numbing strategies that his father had given him, in preparation for the jounin or ANBU exams, when his younger brother had come up to him and tried to get his attention like this? _"Aniki, will you please do shuriken practice with me now? Please?_"

It was foolish of him, but he turned instinctively, so overpowered by the strength of the memory, and instead of Sasuke, it was Sakura who was looking up at him, a strange emotion in her expressive, red-rimmed gaze. At first, she opened her mouth, as if she was going to say something, and then closed it again, looking at him as if she was evaluating some unknown quantity written all over his face.

…The pieces clicked into place, and she blinked, confused. It was elementary, really, and in reflection, Sakura was surprised that she hadn't realized it sooner. If she was developing some kind of…weakness, attachment, _whatever _you wanted to call it, to Itachi…well, it stood to reason, considering his actions, that he might feel the same towards her.

She didn't know how that made her feel, and she didn't even want to think about it. It was a risk Sakura didn't really want to take, but then again, this was her last real hope.

Itachi's heart hammered out a few extra beats as Sakura inched herself even closer to him, much as she had earlier, before reaching out and draping her arms over his shoulders with a long, shaky sigh, turning her head so that her cheek rested against his collarbone, and she felt him stiffen warily.

And then Sakura's nose brushed against the sensitive skin of his neck when she sat up a little straighter, closely followed by the lingering caress of her lips, as she carefully curled one hand around the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to her.

Itachi stilled completely, his mind ordering him to pull away. This was wrong. Sakura wasn't in her right mind. She was confused, vulnerable, and she obviously didn't know how to deal with her feelings, and he needed to end this immediately.

Even though the two of them had been fighting through snow and ice for the majority of the past day, he still managed to smell good, Sakura noted as she breathed in, parting her lips slightly as she slowly nuzzled against Itachi's neck. She felt his pulse jump dangerously, and suddenly, his hand was cold against her lower back. The touch felt off, somehow, like he couldn't decide whether he wanted to hold her tighter or push her away. She didn't feel good about what she was doing. It was cold and manipulative, and perversely enough, it reminded her too much of Orochimaru.

"You know," Sakura said quietly, shoving those thoughts away, and she didn't have to try to make her voice sound as pensive and almost regretful as it did. The words weren't too elegantly phrased, but she just needed something that would push the right buttons, leading him to the reaction she wanted. "…I…I know it's wrong, but I kind of wish things had been different." She stopped, trying to calm herself. This was veering dangerously away from the realm of _skilled persuasion _to the area of _spilling-my-guts-to-Itachi._

Sakura gulped, stroking the back of his neck in an attempt to release some of the stress she felt. "I – I just…well, if you were…if you hadn't – I think that I might have been able to really like you."

The last sentence was mumbled and nearly inaudible and she could only hope that it had conveyed the right meaning – she couldn't have gone out and said '_if you only had a good reason for killing your whole family, I think I would let myself fall for you', _after all.

There was a bit of a delayed reaction before the words sunk in, and when they did, Itachi felt roughly as if an icy hand had locked around his heart, threatening to squeeze it for a pulp. The implications of all she had said shook him to the core, and this time, he knew what would happen between them if he told her the truth. And, kami help him, because it was dangerous and irrational and borderline unethical, but he wanted it – more than he had ever wanted anything else. Itachi could hardly believe that he was thinking this way about his own younger brother's girlfriend – if that was what Sakura was to Sasuke – but it was undeniable.

Itachi closed his eyes, lowering his head until his lips brushed the top of Sakura's head, and he felt a slow, shaky breath escape him. His self-control was wavering dangerously, as it never had before, and—

_I have given you so much, Sasuke. Surely you won't begrudge me this one single act in return. _

The only warning Sakura had was the slight tug of her hair as Itachi pulled her upwards, and before her eyes could even widen in shock, his lips were pressed against hers, and he was kissing her, long and hard.

Her reaction was immediate and reflexive, and Sakura gasped, sliding her hands down to his shoulders as she tried to push him away and pull her head backwards at the same time. It didn't seem to have much of an effect, though. Itachi had run his hands through her hair so that they were cradling the back of her neck, while his thumbs gently traced the delicate line of her jaw, and even though the hold wasn't painful in the least, he was strong, and it was difficult to break. Despite his apparent refusal to let go of her – she didn't even know if Itachi had felt her attempt at resistance – the kiss wasn't at all forceful, demanding, or aggressive. It felt good…gentle and passionate all at once, and so intense and focused that it felt like he was dehydrated to the point of being near death, and she was his own personal oasis.

It scared her; how meticulously and painstakingly he was trying to coax her into responding to him, and more than that, how close she was to giving in. Sakura knew what would happen if she let her guard down for even a second – it would be like her dream, heart-melting and incredible, and she remembered the happiness and the feeling of being so loved—

Against her will, her body relaxed somewhat, and without realizing what she was doing, Sakura instinctively reached up, brushing her hand against Itachi's cheekbone tenderly, before letting her fingers tangle in his silky hair as she changed the angle of the kiss, practically falling toward him and parting her lips slightly. She felt the soft sound, almost a purr, that started in his chest as much as she heard it, and he slid his hands down her back in a slow caress, pulling her more fully into his arms as he did so. She liked the way Itachi touched her: slowly and lingeringly, like he couldn't get enough, and she was something that would vanish within a matter of moments.

She wanted her mind to be quiet, for the vehement protests to stop; for it to let her enjoy the first real kiss she'd ever experienced. There was so much emotion and tenderness in it that it broke Sakura's heart. This was what she had dreamed of when she was younger. This was what she had always wanted from—

Her body stiffened, and Sakura's fingers' grip in Itachi's hair relaxed until her hand fell, limp and lifeless, to his shoulder. _No, _part of her pleaded, desperate to forget. Sasuke had no place here. For once, she wanted to do something for her own sake, without having Sasuke at the forefront of her mind.

Itachi continued kissing her thoroughly and almost desperately, curling his hand over one side of her face and tilting it up towards him as if he was trying his best to elicit the same kind of reaction from her as he had before, and she tried. But her rational mind was gaining control again, screaming at her to stop and making each gesture more and more halfhearted, and finally Sakura gently but insistently pushed at his chest and shoulders, making it clear that she didn't want this anymore. No matter what else one could say about Itachi, she trusted that he would never utterly disregard her feelings.

When he finally, slowly and obviously regretfully pulled away, she turned her head to the side and looked at the floor, unable to reconcile what was going on inside her: the burning desire to simply fling herself back into Itachi's arms, her conscience be damned, and the wave of self-condemnation that had suddenly overcome her. Sakura didn't consider herself the most outstanding kunoichi or label herself as one of the prettier girls, and even though she knew that she at least had her intelligence, pitted against someone like Shikamaru or even Temari, she didn't even have that as an advantage. Her intelligence and her logic were always in conflict with her compassion. She was just an average person – in her own eyes, her only truly exceptional quality had always been her faithfulness; her loyalty…whatever you wanted to call it.

Now, she didn't even have that anymore.

"Sakura."

Itachi's quiet voice, combined with his light touch of her limp hand, got her attention, and she glanced back up at him wearily. He looked removed and almost resigned, and the pink-haired kunoichi couldn't even begin to guess why.

Sakura's sudden passivity disturbed him somewhat, but Itachi made himself discard thoughts of that nature. He had indulged in his moment of weakness; got his…fix, so to say. For a few minutes, he had been able to pretend. He had gotten it out of his system, so now, it was time to do what was necessary, regardless of his own personal feelings about it.

When Itachi's dark gray eyes slowly bled into crimson punctuated by three pinwheels, Sakura felt her mind go numb with instinctive, overwhelming terror.

Oh, _god. _The Mangekyou Sharingan – she recognized it by Sasuke's description, and in spite of her earlier words about Itachi not being the person she thought he was and the whole incident where he actually refused to take somebody's life, Sakura felt her eyes widen, and she willed chakra to her fist, trying to force herself to lift it and slam it into Itachi's face, but her trembling muscles refused to obey. She was literally paralyzed with fright. She had seen what the Sharingan could do firsthand, and it was horrible – but she'd never had it turned on her; not even by Sasuke. Her mind started spouting lists of what the Mangekyou could do automatically, in the only defense mechanism that it new. _Countless torture genjutsu, painful death by incineration…_

The expression of pure, undiluted fear in her eyes was difficult to bear, but Itachi reached out nevertheless, locking his hand around her limp, unmoving wrist and pulling Sakura closer. He exerted more force than usual to deal with the fact that she had buried the nails of her left hand into the cold stone of the cave's floor – the sound of the tips of her fingernails scratching and breaking against the stone was enough to make the hair stand up on the back of his neck – until they were perfectly eye-to-eye. She snapped her head down, flinching visibly, but Itachi gripped her chin as gently as possible, forcing her to look at him. He could only hope that Sakura would not close her eyes, as prying her eyelids open would be unpleasant for both of them.

He was exceptionally skilled at this particular usage of the Sharingan - inducing a unique brand of hypnosis that involved suggesting actions and thoughts to the opponent through simple eye contact. It was a distasteful technique, though; one that Itachi tried to avoid unless it was absolutely imperative.

It only took a few seconds of eye contact for Sakura's vision to blur…everything became indistinct and almost completely dark, save for the crimson light of the Sharingan. The choking panic rose into her chest and throat with astonishing speed, and Sakura lashed out immediately, slamming her fist into his chest. The impact was stunning, but Itachi caught her wrist, pushing it back to her side. "Stay still," he ordered, layering the complex genjutsu even thicker, and Sakura stopped moving at once, staring up at him confusedly.

Itachi paused, momentarily unsure of how to proceed. Suggesting thoughts was always a little more complex, and Sakura would be a difficult case, as she was particularly strong-willed.

He increased the concentration of his chakra even further, and Sakura's forehead creased into a troubled frown. "Listen to me," Itachi said quietly, and even though he detected the slightest amount of resistance, she still nodded once, her body language receptive. He moved even closer, trying to convey how imperative this was by the intensity of his tone. "…Think of this as a dangerous game, Sakura, one that you have no role in and no real understanding of. You are just a powerless pawn who happens to have ended up on the wrong side of the board."

Her lips twisted unhappily, and for the first time, Itachi was pleased at seeing such a reaction.

"…You have to stay out of it," he told her softly, and before he could stop himself, he reached out, tucking a disheveled lock of hair behind her ear, and letting the touch linger at her temple and cheekbone. "You know nothing, and that is how it should be. You have absolutely no influence. Nothing you can ever do, say, or think will change the outcome of the game…of what is destined to happen. It was predetermined a long time ago. Focus all your energies on returning to the other side of the board, where you are supposed to be…where your loyalties lie."

He formed the thoughts and images and ideas to correspond with the words within the genjutsu with so much clarity that her mind could never overcome it, and Sakura, still looking deeply upset, nodded several times. Still, Itachi hesitated briefly before releasing the technique. Doing this…well, it meant the loss of any possibility between him and—

_There was never any chance of that to begin with, _an inner voice told him cruelly.

Itachi closed his eyes once, and when he opened them again, his eyes were free of the Sharingan. He watched Sakura warily, and after a few moments, she sat up straighter, looking around with renewed awareness.

Sakura blinked a few times, feeling a little lost. The threads of her mind were scattered and confused, and it took her a little while to remember what had just happened. Itachi had told her that…when he killed the clan…he had been doing what he felt was right.

_But_—

What Itachi felt was right for _whom_? Himself, or Sasuke?

Her lips parted, but the question died in her throat, and no matter how hard she concentrated, the thought refused to form again. It had just been there for a fraction of a second.

Where was she going to go from here, with this new information? Should she start leading Itachi back to Sasuke? A faint, unexplainable mental image drifted into mind: she and Itachi, standing alone on one side of a chessboard, with Sasuke, Suigetsu, Jugo, and Karin waiting on the other side. As she thought of it, Sasuke advanced two steps, and she saw herself grabbing Itachi by the hand, trying to pull him back to the other side…making him meet Sasuke in the middle.

Sakura drew her knees to her chest, wrapping both arms around them as a troubled sigh worked its way free of her throat. What was wrong with her head? She was still warm, but she felt cold on the inside. Something was…off. Undoubtedly she'd be able to think more clearly in the morning.

Sakura subtly glanced over at Itachi. He was sitting a few feet away, still not looking at her, and despite the Akatsuki cloak that he wore, he was still shivering a little. The pink-haired kunoichi looked down at herself uncertainly. She was as warm as a furnace, so—

_No, _her mind told her firmly. _You heard him. He thought murdering his entire family was _right. _There is no justification for that._

She closed her eyes slowly, unable to deal with how unsettled she suddenly felt.

* * *

As the next week proceeded, Sakura eventually deduced that Itachi was actually leading them back to Rain. She fiddled with her radio compulsively whenever she got a few minutes to herself, but she could hear nothing but static. It was likely that the blizzard had tampered with the original units. This was frustrating, especially combined with her newfound, almost desperate need to find Sasuke and lead Itachi to him as soon as possible, but Sakura figured that, as Sasuke's priority was to find Itachi, he would probably try and head up to the Akatsuki base in Rain as well, so they were likely heading in the same direction.

The thought gave her a strange feeling of excitement, mixed with a deep, irrational foreboding. Something subtle and elusive was telling her that this was not what she really wanted to happen, but those thoughts never flitted through her mind for longer than a fraction of a second, and never long enough for her to grab onto and follow them. It was unusual, but Sakura just figured that it was her subconscious, blinding her logic with the usual emotional entreaties.

Besides, there were other things that could be responsible for her unshakable feeling of constant, spine-chilling apprehension. It always felt like Itachi was watching her out of the corner of his eye. _Always, _no matter what innocuous thing she was doing. That, combined with the way that the sun never seemed to come out here at the border between Stone and Rain, and the unceasing sheets of slate-gray sleet that blanketed the ground, created a distinctly eerie atmosphere.

Sakura sighed deeply, sliding each of her hands into the opposite sleeve of her sweater in a futile attempt to warm them somewhat. She and Itachi had set up camp for the night against a sheer rock face of intimidating height, so they didn't feel the wind, but the chill in the air was pervasive. She was alone for now – Itachi had disappeared in search of one of the natural hot springs prevalent in this area – but, as they had been doing more and more often, her thoughts returned to him. She had been trying to keep her distance because it was the right thing to do, but the two of them seemed to have reached an awkward deadlock. An impasse, of a sort. Itachi, of course, never elaborated further on their conversation in the cave, and she hadn't pressed the issue. She doubted that anything she could say could cause him to disclose any information.

Still, Sakura woke up every night when Itachi released the chakra barrier and coughed, and even though she didn't dare bringing the issue of his sickness up to him, she had been mentally reviewing as much information as she knew, and locked on to a tentative diagnosis.

_But you're still not trying hard enough to get the information about the massacre out of him, _something small and insidious whispered disapprovingly, and by the time she blinked, the thought was gone, and she couldn't get it back. Sakura sat in contemplative silence for a while, her back to the small clearing. She felt Itachi's presence before she saw him return, taking a seat next to her. His hair and the clothes he was wearing were both damp, freshly washed, and his skin slightly flushed. Since she had only ever seen him looking deathly pale before, the sight drew her unwilling attention for a little while…along with the way that his damp shirt clung to the lean muscles of his arms and chest. Sakura's eyes traced the lines of his silhouette appreciatively, and it took a great deal of effort not to let herself imagine her hands doing the same thing.

She remembered, back when she was younger – when Team Seven still existed and they would go on missions, Sasuke would always be in charge of stoking a fire at night, while Naruto and Kakashi-sensei foraged for dinner, and she put up the tent. While she and Sasuke were alone, she would always wonder what would happen if she went up to him and hugged him, pressing herself against his back and draping her arms around his shoulders. She'd never been brave enough to try; anticipating rejections like being roughly shrugged off and called annoying.

Involuntarily, Sakura envisioned doing that to Itachi, and her arms and chest began to tingle pleasantly at the thought of being pressed up against him like that. She wondered what his damp hair would feel like if she pressed her forehead to the nape of his neck and just rested it there. Somehow, to her surprise, she couldn't imagine that Itachi would ever reject her as rudely as Sasuke would.

…Or, if he would even reject her at all.

"Three miles due north," Itachi stated emotionlessly, breaking the silence, and Sakura nearly jumped. His eyes were fixed on the rapidly darkening sky, but she had the feeling that he had caught her in the act of staring at him like…well, like a teenage girl faced with an almost indecent amount of eye candy.

Her face flooded with heat, and the pink-haired kunoichi rose hastily. "I'll go, then," she blurted, before practically fleeing from their campsite. She was suddenly furious at herself, but why? For the past two and a half years, the only guys she had been around were Sasuke, Suigetsu, and Jugo. She had anticipated from the beginning, after seeing their constant feuding, that Suigetsu and Karin would eventually grow tired of the unresolved sexual tension and finally hook up, and Jugo…well, he was probably the nicest guy she knew, but Sakura couldn't think of him in a romantic sense. Sasuke was the only one for her. She hadn't even allowed herself to like anybody else since she had been, what, five years old? She had deluded herself into thinking that was normal, that it was _true love, _but…

The hot springs looked promising, and there was a nearby stream where she could wash her clothes and underwear. Sakura stripped everything off with quick, anxious movements, washing them thoroughly, before laying them out on the rocky streambed to dry, and slipping into the hot springs so that she faced an oddly-shaped rocky outcrop. She was just attracted to Itachi _physically_, because – because…

Well, it was like she had been eating ramen her whole life, and suddenly, she was faced with a platter of delicious, perfectly-seasoned shrimp tempura. Even if the tempura was bad for her; even if she was allergic and it'd make her break out in hives, she still wanted to try it. Just once.

(_Try it? Do you mean sink your teeth into it, run your lips over it, tangle your fingers in it and touch it everywhere, wrap yourself around it and start unbuttoning your shirt and see what it does to you in return--)_

…It was the novelty that made it so attractive.

Sakura groaned aloud, sinking further into the blissful heat of the natural springs. It was an awful metaphor, one that did nothing to convey the depth and complexity of the situation and her feelings. As a matter of fact, it was one probably used by philandering husbands all over the world.

Great.

Sakura closed her eyes, unwilling to think on the matter further, and soaked for a long time, basking in the warmth.

When she finally opened her eyes again, a little languidly and her vision blurred somewhat from her impromptu nap, she received a little bit of a shock: it was completely dark, and the small, cool things that she felt touching her arms and top of her head were tiny bits of sleet.

Her head snapped to the side, reflexively searching for her clothes. _Shit. _

They were still soaking wet, having been caught in the sleet downpour, and bitterly, Sakura wished she'd had the foresight to hang them on the branches of the tree that sheltered this spring. Sitting under it, she had only felt a few drops of sleet, while away from its shelter, the ground was coated in a thin layer of the snow-rain mush.

She turned around, sighing with exasperation—

--and froze, her eyes widening to the size of bottlecaps.

Sitting, approximately two feet from her head, was Itachi's Akatsuki cloak, neatly folded and, when she edged out of the springs enough to reach out and touch it, warm and dry.

_Oh, what the fuck._ Sakura didn't know whether to be grateful because Itachi had just been considerate enough to save her from the health risk of wearing freezing cold, wet clothes – or a mix of enraged and severely discomfited that he had been within two feet of her while she had been sleeping and _naked. _Her body was pretty much hidden by the water and it wasdark outside, but…still. The thought sent shivers down her spine.

Grudgingly, she pulled herself out of the hot springs, decided to risk putting on her soaked underwear, and then plodded over to the folded cloak, shivering hard as she did so, before lifting and pulling it over her a little awkwardly. The warmth it provided was instantaneous and incredible, and it covered her from about neck to toe. The lining was made out of silk, and it felt odd against her almost bare body, making Sakura fidget as she checked the clasp on the thing. Granted, it was immature, but she couldn't work her mind around the fact that she was nearly naked and wearing what Itachi wore on himself almost every hour of every damned day. It even _smelled _like him, and the thought made every square inch of her body tingle with renewed awareness; so much that she wanted to curl up into herself and give an entirely pleasurable shiver.

The walk back to the campsite was longer than she remembered, but it finally came into view through the brief layer of trees. There was a large fire burning, and Itachi sat across from it, looking deeply immersed in whatever he was reading. However embarrassing it was to admit it, the sight stole Sakura's breath away for a moment. The play of the firelight and shadows against his face only served to highlight his achingly handsome features even more, but it wasn't that that'd drawn her attention so.

Itachi just looked so…peaceful. Contemplative. The muscles of his face were relaxed and at rest, and when they were like this, she could see that his features and expression were naturally gentle and kind, completely unlike the tense eyes-narrowed almost-glare that she was used to. The book really seemed to draw his attention; his shoulders were bent somewhat over it, making this the first time she had seen him display less-than-perfect posture, and as she watched, the slightest of smiles tugged at his lips for a second as he read what was probably a particularly memorable line.

For the first time, it felt like she was looking at the real thing. No assumed indifference, no face that was entirely, unnaturally wiped clean of emotion, no walled-off, icy inapproachability, no replies that felt forcedly curt or like something was making him stay silent…no pretense, no mask. Just Itachi.

Sakura blinked suddenly, as startled as she would be if someone had just slapped her across the face.

_There is no 'real Itachi', Sakura. Nothing that he says or does is a pretense. He _is _cold and unfeeling and as heartless as anybody could ever be. There is no good reason for killing your family, _the voice that had been a mainstay in her mind for the past week or so repeated again. _Nobody who could do that is a normal, mentally healthy person. Nobody who could do that deserves to live._

This time, though, those thoughts didn't carry as much weight as they had before, and Sakura's feet carried her forward of what felt like their own accord – but instead of taking a seat across from Itachi, as he had done to her earlier, she sat down as close to him as she could. She felt the questioning look that he directed at the top of her head, but she fixed her gaze onto the fire. She didn't want to go back to her conflicted thoughts about him or about Sasuke. She just wanted to focus on feeling the fire's warmth on her face and inhaling the comforting scent of smoke and ash.

Sakura stared at the fire so long without blinking that her eyes started to burn, and all she could see in it was the red – the deep red, at the base of the fire, the hottest color in the flames, like the color of blood.

Like the Sharingan.

It happened so fast that Sakura could barely comprehend it. She blinked, because she was seeing things and it _couldn't _be the Sharingan, and in the same instant, she saw Inner Sakura. This wouldn't have been unusual…except for the fact that she hadn't heard even a single peep out of her usually vocal alternate personality in a week…since her conversation with Itachi in the cave…

And that had _never _happened before.

Her lips parted with shock, and suddenly, Sakura understood. She saw what had happened, in her mind's eye; through her inner self's point of view. How she had tried to confront Itachi and force him to tell her what had happened, and her attempt at _persuading _him, and how he had reacted to that. The kiss (oh, god, the _kiss_), and…what he had done to her afterwards. Forcing her to submit to the Mangekyou Sharingan, and the genjutsu that he had put her under. How, with something as simple as eye contact and a few whispered words, he had invaded her thoughts and violated her mind and forced her to think things she didn't want to—

All the breath left her body in a harsh exhalation, and Sakura let her head drop forward, raking her fingers through her wet hair, wondering why it was so hard to breathe in again.

Distantly, she heard Itachi say her name, and it took more self-control than she knew she possessed to temper her reaction. After all, though, she would never find out the truth if she succumbed to the temptation to literally punch a hole through his chest, rip his heart out, throw it on the floor, and stomp on it.

_Overstatement, _Inner Sakura stated wryly. _If you were looking for equal retaliation, you would use a genjutsu to manipulate Itachi's thoughts so that he believed he was hopelessly in love with you. _

She still hadn't moved and hadn't responded to him in any way, and Itachi's worry overrode any need for distance. He reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder tentatively. "Sakura?"

He immediately wanted to wince – his voice was too troubled and far too concerned, but it was enough to get her attention. Sakura looked up at him, forcing a smile that looked a little off-key. "I'm okay. It's just a little…a little headache."

Somewhat unconvinced, Itachi pulled back, feeling tension stiffen in his shoulders. A headache… it was possible that her mind was reacting adversely to the continued presence of his chakra, but he couldn't risk releasing the genjutsu.

_Think, Sakura, think, _Sakura repeated to herself frantically, fixing her gaze on where the flames leaped into the dark sky_. _This was actually a beneficial situation. Itachi didn't know that she was no longer trapped by his genjutsu, and she now had the freedom to figure things out for herself…just more subtly than she could have otherwise.

"So," Sakura mused aloud, moving a little closer to him and tilting her head so that it almost rested on his shoulder. "What are you reading?"

Well, he certainly hadn't expected _that. _Itachi moved hastily, edging away from her and attempting to shut the book of interrelated haiku as quickly as possible. "It is nothi—"

Sakura craned her neck, catching a glimpse of one particular title before the pages fluttered shut, and she gave Itachi her most innocent look. "Brothers? That sounds interesting. What's it about?"

There was nothing suspicious about her words. Her tone was normal: sweet, inquisitive, and just begging to be responded to. Underneath the part of Sakura that was just pure cold, calculating kunoichi, Itachi suspected that her fundamental personality was…well, friendly. One could even call it charming. And, of course her mind, as the more actively scheming and strategizing parts were suppressed by the genjutsu, would only have more innocent topics of conversation and thought to draw from. Besides, Itachi could hardly remember the last time he had talked to anybody besides Kisame about normal, innocuous things.

If he did decide to indulge in conversation with Sakura, it would be harmless, in any case. They would talk about poetry. There was no intrigue; no politics between Konoha and the Uchiha clan. No opportunity to run his fingers through her wet hair and hold her securely as they simply watched the fire and intertwined their fingers together, the implicit message between them that this was something Sasuke would never do. No desire to wrap his arms around Sakura and pull her close and whisper a summary of the haiku anthology in the time that he wasn't nibbling on her ear (_sorry, Sasuke)_.

…Well, more accurately, that particular desire was suppressed enough that there was no danger of it actually coming to pass.

"The title is fairly self-explanatory," Itachi responded quietly, looking down at her small hands. "It is an overarching story, told through haiku from the point of view of the three main characters."

Even though she had vowed not to get distracted, Sakura couldn't deny how unexpectedly pleasant it was just to sit and let Itachi's low, gentle voice wash over her as he talked about things that were, well, normal. "And those would be?"

"Two brothers," he answered cryptically. "…And one woman. Anything further would be giving things away."

It was part of her objective to subtly set him at ease, but Sakura's reaction was genuine, and she couldn't help but laugh out loud, elbowing Itachi in the side. It was such a welcome relief from the perpetual tension she had suffered since leaving Sound, and she knew that he meant it innocently, but there was just something about _his _voice saying anything that could even possibly be taken as an innuendo, that made her want to giggle. "Ooh, that's _hot._"

It took Itachi a moment to grasp her meaning and the reason behind her sudden fit of giggles, and when he did, his face warmed a little, in a way that had nothing to do with the fire. Her words created a rather interesting set of mental images, and furthermore, it was obvious that Sakura thought nothing of little gestures like a casual touch and actual, genuine laughter, but to him, they were utterly novel, and almost overwhelming. "…Please, Sakura."

"Sorry," she replied, in a tone that was everything but, and before Sakura fully realized what she was doing, she batted her eyelashes up at Itachi. She'd spent the majority of her life trying to flirt with Sasuke, so she knew that it was basically impossible. He was just so…unreceptive, and with Itachi, it seemed to be the opposite – he was practically begging for it, and he didn't even realize – and it was quickly becoming intoxicating. "If you're into that kind of stuff, though…"

The sheer waves of pure emotion that were practically radiating off her were contagious, and for a single, dizzying moment, Itachi wondered if Sakura was actually flirting with him. _Flirting. _It had been so long since he had even thought the word or let any similar idea flit across his mind, that it felt like a foreign language. It made him remember being thirteen, and celebrating the Tanabata Star festival in summer; sharing large blue sticks of cotton candy and sweet dango…her favorite, and his.

It had been one of his last good memories in Konoha, before everything went to hell. One of his last good memories, period. It had been the last time he had ever thought something was…fun. Enjoyable. Worth thinking about when times were at their darkest.

The wave of nostalgia was unexpected and nearly overwhelming, and Itachi blinked. It had been so long…he wanted to feel it again, just one more time before he could no longer do so. But had he forgotten how to?

In an involuntary response to the question, proving his own mind wrong, a tiny smirk touched the edges of Itachi's features, making it clear that he wasn't serious. "…Why, Sakura, are you volunteering?" he asked silkily, brushing up against her arm so lightly that it could just have been an accident.

His answer shocked Sakura so much that her jaw actually dropped, making her look like the textbook definition of _utterly stunned, _and Itachi couldn't help it; a small, amused sound escaped the back of his throat, his lips curving up into a half-smile. It was the closest he could ever get to a laugh, and the instant Sakura figured out that he wasn't serious, she shoved him playfully, momentarily forgetting whom she was with, before dissolving into unrestrained laughter. It felt so nice to do so…she hadn't laughed in what felt like forever. There was never, ever any cause for mirth with Sasuke or _around _Sasuke or even remotely near Sasuke, and that was not an exaggeration. He had never made her laugh, and needless to say, probably never even dreamed of teasing or playfully flirting with her like this.

When she had finally exhausted herself, Sakura sighed contentedly, and when she glanced up again, smoothing her hair away from her face, she realized with a start that Itachi had been watching her, the expression in his eyes much softer than usual. He turned away immediately, pretending as if he hadn't, and she paused, her fingers getting caught in the ends of her hair. No wonder it'd had such an effect on him…she couldn't imagine that _the _Itachi indulged in lighthearted moments like this very often.

The thought made an unfamiliar emotion surge up within Sakura: deep pity, mixed with sorrow. What would it be like, to live like that? Without the simple human indulgences of sharing a laugh with a friend…and, she could tell from Itachi's reaction that even the tiny gestures that she took for granted, like a nudge or smile or falling against someone in the middle of a fit of laughter, were foreign to him. He had looked so stunned when she'd done as little as flutter her eyelashes at him, too. He seemed starved of even the most basic kinds of interaction or suggestion of affection, and honestly, to someone as social as she was, she couldn't imagine how awful that must be.

It definitely wasn't the wisest thing to do, but Sakura ignored the part of her that was telling her so as she leaned against Itachi briefly, resting her head on his shoulder. It was comfortable, and as she had predicted, he made no move to shrug her off.

"So," she commented at length, watching the shadows of the flames dance against the dirt. "…Your haiku book isn't really about a sexy threesome, is it?"

"Most definitely not."

"I thought so." Sakura readjusted her positioning a little and leaning closer to him, and for a fraction of a second, his hand rested on her back, steadying her, before he slowly withdrew it. "…Love triangle, I suppose?"

Her words were quiet and a little uncertain, and Itachi hesitated momentarily. "…You could say that, yes."

Sakura nodded in acknowledgement of his words, suddenly unsure of whether she wanted to take the next step or not. "Um…how does it end, then?"

This time, when Itachi put his hand on her back, gently tangling his fingers into her hair, he didn't pull away, and in one of those rare, uncanny moments, Sakura could tell that they were both thinking the same thing. He changed the angle of his head; tilting it so that his cheek pressed lightly against the top of her head. "I'm not there yet," he told her, his voice a little roughened with strain.

For once, this wasn't a manipulative thing. She had no agenda; no ulterior motive, but still, Sakura slid herself closer against his side, moving one of her hands so that it rested over his heart, and turning her cheek so that it pressed against where his shoulder met his chest. "Well, how do you want it to end?" she asked, her voice so quiet she could barely hear it over the crackle of the embers.

She felt Itachi's breath hitch, and his fingers' grip tightened in her hair so much that it was almost painful. He was silent for so long she thought he was ignoring her, but then he finally spoke again, his tone a little bit less effortlessly calm than usual. "I want the beautiful, well-intentioned, stubborn, and completely, _utterly_ misguided girl to stop playing with fire, because I do not wish for her to get burned."

The first adjective made Sakura's chest tighten, and she was too far gone to stop now. She glanced up; reaching back and curling her fingers around Itachi's ponytail and gently tugging on it once, so that he had no choice but to look at her, even though it was clear that was the last thing he wanted to be doing. "What if she would rather get burned than live in hope of a safe, unsatisfying, _impossible_ life?" she told him quietly, even though part of her was unable to believe that the words had actually escaped the darkest, deepest parts of her subconscious.

Itachi pulled back, looking away from her hastily, and she could see how tense his shoulders were. "Sakura, you do not—"

The dismissal pushed all the wrong buttons, and Sakura bristled visibly, grabbing his hand and pulling it back to her with a violent jerk, until they were practically nose-to-nose, much closer than they were before. "Don't you _dare _presume," she said quietly, her voice taut with anger as her gaze sought his, "that you know what I want."

They sat like that for another few moments in complete silence, until the embittered sigh finally worked its way free of her chest. Knowing that it was hopeless, but deciding to try anyway, Sakura reached up, brushing an errant lock of hair behind Itachi's ear, and letting the touch linger at his cheekbone. She couldn't help but let her eyes stray to his thin, defined lips, tracing over them as she wished she could do with her fingers, and through her peripherals, she could see his eyes darken several degrees as he watched her watch him.

The sight sent an unfamiliar but distinctly pleasant jolt of feeling through her body, and Sakura fidgeted against the Akatsuki cloak again, feeling the silk and the heavy metal of the clasp press up against her chest. Unconsciously, she moistened her dry lips, liking the sensation of Itachi's eyes following the movement. She moved closer, slowly and tentatively, so that their noses were just a fraction of an inch away from touching, and Itachi closed his eyes with a ragged exhalation, but didn't withdraw. It made sense – how much temptation could one person withstand?

"You and I both know that the girl isn't as misguided as you make it sound," Sakura told him quietly, and this time, much as she had in the cave, she let her fingers brush against his impossibly soft hair. "…And besides, I think she likes playing with fire."

Itachi didn't even have time to fully finish uttering her name, in the process of drawing away, before Sakura used her fingers' newfound leverage in his hair to clumsily pull him back to her, and their parted lips collided with an uncomfortable impact that made both of them flinch.

Itachi recovered first, and to Sakura's pleasant surprise, he kissed her back just as passionately, slipping one hand behind her neck to support her, while letting the other one slide down the right side of her body, tracing over her ribcage to her hip and back up again. She gave a muffled sigh of appreciation, reaching up and wrapping both arms around his neck. She could feel and taste him against her with every tentative movement of their lips and tongues, and it felt so good. So…human; as if the barely restrained passion in the way that he was touching her wasn't enough proof of that. Itachi nipped at her bottom lip enough to make her whimper, then, but soothed it in the next moment with a gentle brush of his tongue against the sore area. It made Sakura quiver, and she twisted against him, trying to get as close as possible, and pouring as much of what she was feeling into the kiss as she could. It made her happy, and she wanted, _needed_, him to feel it as well.

She would never admit it to anybody, but she hadn't liked making out so much when it was her and Sasuke, which had worried her somewhat. It was supposed to be mindblowing and impossible to get enough of…and, well, her first two experiences certainly hadn't been. At all.

Sakura had been afraid that she was doing something wrong, but now it was becoming clear that maybe, it just hadn't been with the right person. Maybe it was just the presence of actual emotion behind the contact – this didn't have the desperation that their last kiss had, but instead, a dizzying mix of passion and hunger and discovery that made her lightheaded – but every one of Itachi's touches made her arch against him restlessly, and it was hard to pull away from him for as long as it took to breathe. Sakura wished the two of them were standing up or something – that would make it easier for him to touch her in places besides her back. What the two of them lacked in expertise, they made up for in enthusiasm, anyway, and…

Itachi drew back for a fraction of a second, staring at her through darkened eyes that were an even stormier shade of gray, and he rubbed his thumb against her left hipbone in an achingly slow circle. "Sakura…"

She didn't anticipate the rush of heat that flooded through her at the very sound of how he said her name, and Sakura leaned closer, trying to press a kiss into the sensitive skin of his neck. She'd heard enough of Karin's gleeful rants on the topic to have a decent approximation of what she was doing, and even though they had exasperated her at the time, now, she was kind of looking forward to hopefully pushing Itachi over the edge as much as he was threatening to do for her.

What Sakura didn't expect was the gentle but insistent push against her shoulders, moving her backwards. What? It didn't make sense. Was he…?

The cold, humiliating feeling of rejection was all too familiar, and Sakura looked down at the dirt floor, unable to believe what had just happened. Her first, instinctive reaction was one of hurt; all the warm, pleasant feelings disappeared as quickly and abruptly as if a blanket had been ripped off her, exposing her to the cold. How had she been so stupid? But…it had really seemed like Itachi had liked it as much as she had…

Maybe some of her emotions showed on her face, because Itachi reached out like he wanted to touch her comfortingly, but then he pulled his hand back, as if he didn't trust himself. "This is wrong," he said abruptly, his voice a little too loud for the quiet night, and even though it was bad of her, Sakura liked seeing how sad his eyes were.

It wasn't what she was supposed to say in response, but the words somehow made their way free anyway. The more emotional, intense, crippling wave of remorse would hit shortly, but for now, Sakura just made herself acknowledge it as calmly as she could. "…I know."

They stared at each other awkwardly, Sasuke's unseen, unspoken presence almost tangible in the air between them.

Finally, Itachi reached out, brushing the tips of his fingers against her cheekbone very lightly, as if he was afraid she would burn him – so different from their heated touches of only a few minutes ago. "I want to," he said, quietly, cryptically. "More than you could ever imagine."

Want to…what? Keep kissing her? Tell her the truth?

Sakura felt herself incline her head a fraction of an inch, somewhat mechanically. "I understand," she lied, feeling her heart fracture a little. Rejection was rejection, and it never hurt any less with each successive time it happened. And it wasn't resentment for Sasuke that she was feeling. It _couldn't _be.

They sat, two feet apart, until she couldn't deal with the loneliness anymore. She inched closer to Itachi, resting her head against his shoulder wearily. "Still wrong, I know," she whispered, half expecting him to dislodge her.

Instead, he carefully wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her securely. "But less so."

"Yeah, I guess."

They watched the fire for a little while, leaning against the sheer rock face. Eventually, Itachi dislodged himself, and Sakura watched detachedly as, with a few hand seals, withdrew one of the sleeping rolls, the larger of the two, from the summoning scroll that he kept in his pocket.

He didn't invite her, and she didn't ask him, but by silent mutual agreement, they found themselves tangled together in the warmth of the thick woolen blankets. Sakura faced the fading fire, her back pressed against Itachi's chest. She had never before been so thankful for the compartmentalization skills that all kunoichi had. The realization of what she had done would hit her sometime in the middle of the night, twisting her dreams into nightmares, and she'd likely wake up with tears on her cheeks and all twisted up into a ball of self-hatred, but for now, with Itachi's chin resting on her head and one of his arms wrapped around her protectively, she felt as close to all right as possible.

Even though Sakura knew that she was the one who probably held the answers in this particular situation, she spoke anyway, turning her cheek closer against her pillow. "Where do we go from here?"

The words came out softer and more plaintive-sounding than she would have liked, and after a few moments, she felt Itachi stroke her hair gently. "I have no idea," he responded quietly, and probably more honestly than anything he had ever said to her in the past.

Sakura leaned into his touch wordlessly, watching the fire's dying embers lose a little bit more of their glow.

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

Two things: Firstly, thank you to the amazing SwiftKick for being kind enough to read this over. Secondly, it is likely that I will not be able to update next Tuesday, as next week is finals week, and I have a bunch of long, obnoxious, difficult tests to prepare for. I'm sorry. :(

As always, you know that I love hearing what you guys have to say. Any and all feedback would make me a very happy camper, and give me something to tide me over the suffering of finals week. That would be very much appreciated. :)


	10. Contagious

_As always, thank you to everybody who was considerate enough to review. :)_

_Chapter Ten: Contagious_

* * *

Sasuke hadn't spoken more than one short sentence at a time in the entire past week. His deathly-pale pallor hadn't improved since the time of…the incident. And his eyes were the same feverish, burning crimson every moment of every day, while his mouth seemed to have permanently hardened into a thin, grim line.

It was enough to freak her out, really. Karin had always known that there was a part of Sasuke that was a little bit frightening, but this was the first time that aspect of him had lurked so close to the surface. And she really hated to admit it, but it wasn't just fear and unsettlement that dominated her changing feelings toward him over the past few days.

It was pity. The emotion was nearly foreign to her, and thus far, it had only been reserved for the truly unfortunate. Sakura had always gone on and on about how Sasuke wasn't a bad person; how his behavior and actions weren't deplorable in the least, because he was just a victim of circumstance and that made everything that he did _okay_. Karin always called her out on the bullshit, but now…

Karin sighed quietly, drawing her threadbare violet coat around herself. The small clearing they had settled in for the night was sheltered from most of the wind by the toweringly tall trees, but the chill in the still air cut her to the bone. Jugo and Suigetsu were off hunting their dinner, and she would have joined them, but she had twisted her ankle on a rather treacherous tree branch about half an hour ago, and Suigetsu had caught her limping and insisted she stay behind to avoid irritating it further. Damn him.

Which left her and Sasuke sitting in front of a patch of frostbitten dirt, staring at the ground morosely. Well, Sasuke was in the process of arranging firewood in a stack so he could light a fire with the Katon, and sitting next to him as she was, Karin couldn't help but notice his uncharacteristically slow, precise movements. His pale hands shook, as they had been almost continuously for the whole week, and she didn't think it was because of the cold. For the first time, they probably had similar thoughts on their mind…as their entire small team likely did, in the time that they weren't busy and on the hunt. Karin didn't even want to thinkabout the horrifying prospect of Sasuke's psychopath of an older brother and Sakura, who was undoubtedly in an unimaginable amount of danger, but—

Her lips twisted into a frown as she picked up a stray twig and tossed it into the pile vehemently, trying to mask the sudden stab of pure fear that had shot through her like an arrow. Karin didn't like having her previous assumptions of people proven wrong, but…goddamnit, ever since they had heard – that, well, Sakura seemed to have been captured by the mass-murdering _freak_, all of her perceptions about one Sasuke Uchiha had been shifting dangerously.

The knowledge that Itachi had taken Sakura had caused some kind of a mental break in him, one that _she _could have imagined would happen to her if somehow, Suigetsu was captured by a deadly, unstable force. Sasuke had always been somewhat antisocial, but now, he had closed entirely in on himself, communicating only when necessary, and only in sentences of a few clipped words. He hadn't even directly mentioned Sakura or Itachi once. For that first night, though, when she had knocked him out for his own health, he had tossed and turned and mumbled Sakura's name in his sleep, over and over and over again.

And he had kept doing it, too, every night since then. It was obvious that the thought of Sakura and his older brother caused Sasuke a depth of mental anguish, bordering on torture, that the rest of them couldn't even begin to guess at.

But the question was…why? In spite of the fact that he treated her like shit_, _Karin was perceptive enough to pick up on the fact that in some twisted way, Sasuke had always cared about Sakura. It was _how _that confused her. Did he care for her like a sister? She doubted that – he had kissed her a couple of times, after all. Until now, she had been leaning toward the idea that Sasuke just treated Sakura like a possession – a tool that had he come to depend on and take for granted, simply because she had always been there. And when his possession had been stolen from him by the one person he hated most in the entire world, Sasuke had completely lost it.

Karin pushed her glasses up on her nose pensively, readjusting the position of her twisted ankle. The thought made her scowl. For Sakura's sake, she wished that it wasn't that way, even though her common sense told her otherwise.

It wasn't as if she was just being nosy, or anything. Sure, it didn't concern her in any way, but she still wanted to know. Sasuke's behavior was enough to sow the faintest seeds of doubt about his intentions toward Sakura in her mind, and now was as good as a time as any to potentially find out what the hell was going on between them. Whether Sasuke would disclose any information was a whole other issue, but it was worth a try.

"So," Karin stated abruptly, unable to think of any other way to broach the subject – social finesse really wasn't her thing – and hardly believing her own daring. "…How do you feel about Sakura, anyway?"

She held her breath immediately, and the blunt question was actually enough to make Sasuke's hand still for a fraction of a second, a twig dropping from his suddenly limp fingers. He directed an incredulous look at her, before his eyes narrowed slightly. "Don't you already know the answer to that question, Karin?" he returned, his voice cold. "You certainly act like you do, after all."

She'd never been able to hold a calm conversation with Sasuke for longer than a few minutes, but this was a record. Karin bristled visibly, glaring right back at him. "I have a good idea, based on how you've acted for the past few years, and unless you take this one opportunity to prove me wrong, I'm going to keep on believing it."

Her flat statement echoed in the clearing for a few moments, and Sasuke slammed one palm down into the empty dirt, looking like he was coming dangerously close to losing his temper. Once again, she was reminded of the second reason she had chosen not to pursue him romantically (the first reason was that it was obvious Sakura had a crush on him, and Karin was many things, but she was _not _a boyfriend-stealing bitch) – his chakra was so heavy and dark that it was oppressive and nearly choking. "I don't have to explain myself to _you_," he said in an incongruously soft, venomous tone.

Karin surveyed him clinically, unafraid. "What would you lose by doing so?" she retorted sharply, momentarily forgetting who she was talking to. "Yeah, I know that you're obsessed with pushing everyone who wants to get close to you away, so that you can be one hundred percent full of pure, unadulterated hate for your brother, but kami, if on the off chance that you're actually _capable _of such compassionate feelings, there's no shame in admitting it."

It was only her lightning-quick reflexes, born out of ten years of training, that allowed Karin to escape the specialized Katon with only a few locks of mildly singed hair.

Just like that, they were across the clearing from each other, glaring daggers at one another. Sasuke's right fist still smoked a little with the strength of the fireball that he had just punched her way, and Karin glowered at him, the fingers of her right hand curling around the kunai that she'd stowed in her pocket. "Did I happen to touch a nerve, Sasuke-_kun_?" she taunted, unfazed by her close call; she knew he was probably just trying to freak her out a little.

Sasuke advanced on her, and his combative posture hadn't relaxed in the least. "You know nothing about me," he spat, his voice heavy with resentment. "_Nothing._"

"That's because you don't _let _anybody know anything about you!" Karin yelled back, frustrated. She took a defensive step backward, anyway – if push came to shove, she knew that she could probably use a vanishing jutsu faster than he could throw another Katon. "How can you blame me for thinking that you only view Sakura as a tool and an object of convenience, and, beyond that, you don't give a shit about her? You've never given anybody – hell, you've never even given _her _– any reason to believe otherwise!"

Karin flinched back, expecting the retaliation before it came, but to her surprise, Sasuke stopped dead, his eyes widening somewhat. "…What?" he croaked, his voice hoarse. When she didn't respond; before she could even _blink, _he was across the clearing, his fist knotted in the material of her coat, pulling her so close that they were almost nose-to-nose. For once, her legendary toughness deserted her. This close to the deadly crimson of the Sharingan, the red-haired kunoichi felt her knees threaten to give way beneath her, as he pushed her up against the bark of the nearest tree. "What did you say?" Sasuke demanded, his tone strangled, and his grip on her tightened.

"You heard me!" Karin snapped, now officially horrified and freaked out beyond all belief at the situation, as she pushed at his chest hard. "Get _off_!"

Sasuke took a small step backwards, looking as if she had slapped him. Even though he was at least keeping his hands to himself now, he still radiated a deadly aura that made Karin feel more than a little unsettled. The behavior of his chakra was a strange counterpoint to his expression, though; he was flexing his hands like they had gone utterly numb, and she had never seen him looking so stunned. "Is that true?"

If he hadn't made the mistake of so severely antagonizing her, Karin would have been more inclined to notice how soft and suddenly vulnerable – how un-Sasuke-like – his tone had gotten. As it was, though, she shoved her hands in her pockets, giving him her most derisive look. "Yeah," she bit out. "It is."

Sasuke stared at her for a few moments, and just when the tension between them threatened to become too much to bear, he whirled around in an instant, before storming away, into the dark forest.

Karin blinked, shocked, and even though he had disappeared from sight, before she had time to think it through, she followed, silently cursing her propensity to put her foot in her mouth. What the fuck was going on? Did Sasuke's little emotional fit mean that his feelings were actually _hurt _or some shit like that?

She was panting a little bit and her injured ankle was throbbing mercilessly by the time she finally broke through the trees, and her gaze swept the area anxiously until she found what she was looking for. They were at the almost frozen over stream that their team had happened upon earlier, and Sasuke was sitting on the bank closest to her, his back facing her, and folded over into himself so much that it looked as if somebody had kicked him in the stomach, hard. He practically radiated instability and inapproachability, and Karin hovered indecisively for a moment, before finally, tentatively stepping a little bit closer.

As he hadn't said or done anything to discourage her, she risked taking a seat next to him cautiously. Sasuke's hair had fallen forward, obscuring his face completely, but she could see the way his shoulders were rising and falling; indicating heavily labored breaths. It looked like he had punched a hole right through the ice and submerged the tips of his fingers into the frigid water, and even though they were turning blue, he made no move to remove them. Aside from the incident, she had never seen him so unguarded before, and it was scary.

Slightly alarmed, and at an utter loss for what to do, Karin reached out very gingerly, touching his shoulder as if she was afraid he would burst into flames. Remorse was a sharp, unexpected pain in her side, and this whole _comforting _business was new to her, but she tried to apply some reassuring pressure with her hand. "Look, Sasuke," she told him softly and urgently. "I – I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have even brought it up and it's none of my business, so please don't get all upset or anything…"

Sasuke said nothing, and just managed a few more ragged breaths.

Karin withdrew warily, deciding that maybe it was best to give him some time. Her heart was sinking further down with every moment that passed – she wanted to make him talk, yes, but not like _this. _Even though Sasuke hadn't said a word, she could read his actions like a book, and it tugged at her heartstrings in a way that she hadn't thought possible, even as she felt bile rise into her throat. Suddenly, it all made sense. His emotional breakdown in the wake of the incident, his rage at her implication that he wasn't capable of caring for anybody, his reaction when she had told him that _Sakura _believed that he didn't care for her as anything more than a mere object that he was accustomed to having around…

Even though it was a total contradiction to her earlier thoughts, now Karin wished that she had been right. It would have been easier that way. It would have been easier for Sasuke to be the selfish, heartless, uncaring jackass who just didn't deserve Sakura, anyway…not this. The reality was much worse.

The weight of her impromptu realization made her hurt like somebody had punched her in the face, and suddenly, Karin felt a hundred times worse than she'd ever had before. This was awful. Sasuke _did _care for Sakura deeply…he had just been robbed of the ability to properly express it. How many times had she made snide comments to Jugo or Suigetsu about how emotionally retarded Sasuke was?

At the time, she'd had no idea of how right she was. And now, it wasn't funny at all.

Karin felt vaguely nauseous, and the implications of everything she had inadvertently found out were just beginning to sink in. This time, when she looked at Sasuke again, she understood, and she hated herself for not figuring it out earlier. All the signs had been there, in his behavior, and she couldn't imagine what he must have been suffering through in the past week. Somebody who he cared dearly about had been captured by the person who had cold-bloodedly destroyed everybody that he had once loved, and even her limited comprehension of his emotions threatened to make her sick. The fear, the horror, the rage, the constant, agonizing speculation, the pain…the feeling of being, once again, completely, utterly, helpless…no wonder Sasuke had been acting so strange for the past week. Anybody else would have gone completely, certifiably insane by now.

Her empty stomach heaved once, and, overwhelmed, Karin raked her fingers through her hair so hard that it hurt, drawing her knees close to her chest. She looked over at him again, a hundred different apologies all rising to her lips, but Sasuke shook his head minutely. He looked much older than his age, and for once, the hard, icy exterior had melted…the weariness and exhaustion and pain had etched lines into his face, making him look startlingly like his older brother.

It wasn't like he reached for her hand, or she reached for his – it was more of a mutual movement, and their fingers interlaced tightly, both of them taking as much brief, platonic comfort from the other as they could.

"You have to tell her," Karin managed, at last, watching the moonlight ripple on the icy river. Her voice had been unsteady at first, but then she turned to face him, a little bit of the fire returning to her gaze as she narrowed her eyes at him in a warning glare, making it clear that it was not an option. It made her heart ache, thinking of all those moments in the past where Sakura's carefree façade about her relationship with Sasuke had slipped, revealing all the sadness and futile hopes underneath. If she had only known…

Sasuke hesitated for a moment, visibly struggling with the words. "I will," he replied, his voice barely audible. "…If it's not too late."

Stupidly, Karin's first, instinctive thought was that was a really odd thing to say…that everybody knew that Sakura would die before giving up on Sasuke. And then she realized what the real implications of his words were, and she shuddered quietly, squeezing his hand a little bit tighter.

* * *

_Northern Region Of Stone_

* * *

Sakura awoke as abruptly as she would have if somebody poured a gallon of ice-cold water over her head.

It took her a moment to realize that her breathing was coming uncommonly quickly, in short, rapid gasps, and her chest hurt. The threads of her dream were still unraveling around her, and even though she knew it was irrational, she pushed herself up into a half-sitting position, looking around anxiously. The fire had gone out, cloaking their campsite in darkness, but the shadows were still and empty. There wasn't a hint of a single chakra signature for miles. No…Sasuke was far away, somewhere; not here, watching with betrayed, angry eyes, one hand on the hilt of his katana, ready to pull the long blade free of its sheath, as she slept beside his most hated enemy.

The wind ghosted through the trees, stirring the few stray leaves that were still present, and it sounded eerily like light footfalls. The sound triggered the last scene of her nightmare, and Sakura shuddered convulsively, feeling her stomach turn over at the remembered horror. For what felt like hours, she had dreamed of Sasuke just standing in the shadows of their campsite, watching her and Itachi sleep, and at the very end, he had finally began to walk over to them with agonizing slowness. Her dream-self had been sound asleep until the very end…until hearing his footsteps. She'd opened her eyes confusedly, her mind barely having time to even register the image of Sasuke's hate-filled eyes and the katana he was clutching in a white-knuckled fist.

And that was when Sasuke stabbed the point of the long sword right through Itachi's chest, the revolting sound of metal stabbing through his rib cage and blood spurting everywhere and the horrible choking sounds he was making echoing in the clearing. His blood had splattered on her, and she had screamed, but before Itachi had even finished bleeding out, Sasuke had turned on her, his expression twisting into something unspeakably malevolent. And then he had knelt to the floor, his fingers knotting in her hair painfully hard and pulling it back, before placing the metal of the katana to her throat—

Belatedly, Sakura realized that she was still shaking spasmodically, her throat closing over in response to the sudden trauma. Even though she had a feeling that this was what her subconscious mind had been trying to dissuade her from doing, she turned around so that she faced Itachi, wrapping her arms around him as softly as she could and resting her forehead against his collarbone. Despite the warm blankets, her bare feet were even colder than the rest of her body, and she pressed the soles up against his legs, unconsciously holding him a little bit tighter. The position was incredibly comfortable, but the nightmare had scared her wide awake; her eyes were as open as could be and her mind tense and alert.

Sakura nearly jumped when she felt his arms wrap around her in return, pulling her closer against his chest. For a fraction of a second, she could convince herself that it was an instinctive reaction, but to her displeasure, Itachi spoke, his low voice husky and a little roughened with sleep. "Sakura…do you want me to start another fire?"

She spared a moment to marvel at the acuity of his senses, even though the majority of her mind was too busy reveling in the way that he said her name…and how nice he sounded when he was completely unguarded like this. "No," Sakura replied hastily, regretting her impulsive attempt at getting closer in an attempt to drive her fear away. Any closeness to Itachi, emotional or physical, would definitely spell disaster for them both…so she would definitely move away from him the second she had gotten herself to calm down a little. "I'm…I'm fine."

Itachi said nothing, although she could tell that he was completely unconvinced. Knowing it was probably a little unwise, Sakura rubbed her thumb along the sharply defined (_too _sharply defined, part of her noted immediately) ridge of his collarbone soothingly. "Just go back to sleep. I'll be okay."

She felt him sigh quietly, unwrapping one of his arms from around her. "I am not tired, either."

Sakura could hear the exhaustion in his voice, but it was all too clear that it was emotional and not physical. She could bet a thousand ryou that she knew the cause of whatever conflict he was feeling, and she ducked her head slightly, feeling her face heat up. Now that she had a few hours of sleep and was feeling saner, the typical thoughts were manifesting again. What on earth had possessed her to kiss him that last time? She had just gotten so carried away with the flirtation and the surreptitious little voice that had kept whispering _Sasuke will never do this with you _and goddamn allusions to his book, with the freaking _love triangle _between those brothers and the girl…she winced at the very thought. Arguably, there was no harm in being physically attracted to Itachi – if she kept it well suppressed, under control, and completely to herself.

…Neither of which she was doing at the moment.

For a few long minutes, they were silent, immersed in their own thoughts. Sakura had half convinced herself that Itachi had fallen asleep, when he shifted positions again, so that he was lying on his back, looking at the expanses of bright stars. It was obvious that he was deep in thought, and she couldn't even begin to imagine what was going on in his mind. She had never encountered somebody so inscrutable before. It was obvious that Itachi had the strictest amount of disciplined self-control that she'd ever seen; it was enviable, and it made her furious that she didn't even have the tiniest fragment of it.

"…May I ask you a question?"

Itachi's soft inquiry startled her so much that her entire body actually twitched, and Sakura turned toward him so quickly that she almost pulled a muscle in her neck. He was still staring at the sky, and she could see the troubled frown that had etched itself onto his brow. "Sure," the pink-haired kunoichi observed guardedly. She couldn't imagine that he had just randomly decided to ask her something, but the idea that he had been in such deep thought about _her _seemed impossible.

Itachi's gaze flickered toward her for an instant. "Despite the official records having listed your disappearance from Konoha as a kidnapping, you left of your own free will."

The words were phrased as a statement, but the way he was looking at her made it clear that he wanted confirmation of some sort. Moistening her dry lips, and unsure of where the conversation was going, Sakura inclined her head once. She hated whenever this particular issue was brought up, and she didn't know why she felt so intensely about it, but she didn't want Itachi to judge her negatively. At first, in Sound, she had been regarded as the village idiot because of her willingness to throw herself into a pit of snakes just because her _crush _did so. She'd had her share of conflicting feelings about that momentous, impulsive decision as well. More than once, she had wondered if it had been unforgivably, criminally stupid to turn her back on her mother, her friends, and all that she knew…for a boy who had no special regard or strong feelings for her…who barely tolerated her presence, really.

Itachi made a small sound of acknowledgement in the back of his throat, and it looked like he was taking care to phrase his words with as much tact as possible. "You did this for Sasuke," he commented slowly, glancing down at her, and knowing that it went without saying that Sakura would undoubtedly do _anything _for Sasuke. "Such extraordinary devotion and loyalty is not usually common for one so young, is it?"

It was stupid, but the defensive retort was the first thing that rose to her mouth. "I'm not _that _young, you know."

Itachi raised an eyebrow at her, and the tiny physical gesture succeeded in making the pink-haired kunoichi feel thoroughly chastised. "You are aware of my meaning, Sakura."

"Fine," Sakura countered, rolling onto her back. She didn't know what Itachi wanted to get out of this conversation, but he was definitely succeeding in making her feel like even more of an abnormal freak. She _knew _that what she had done had been misguided, at best…and at worst, an act of unparalleled stupidity only capable of being executed by a foolishly infatuated preteen. "And no. It's not."

There were a few heartbeats of silence, and then Itachi prompted her further, his voice surprisingly gentle and quiet. "…What drew you to my brother initially?"

Sakura's eyes narrowed, and she felt her body tense. She liked talking to Itachi, and she felt comfortable doing so, but that worried and disturbed her more than anything else. It was all right when they could discuss innocent things like poetry, but such personal matters definitely crossed the line. Until he was completely honest with her, she wouldn't even consider doing the same for him. "What is this, twenty questions?" she replied sardonically.

Itachi exhaled slowly, sounding somewhat exasperated. "It is nothing of the sort."

"Then what?"

She could certainly be quite…tenacious, he mused, taking time to consider his answer and phrase it in a manner that she wouldn't misunderstand, but that wasn't really new knowledge.

Sakura remained still, watching him suspiciously, and she didn't even relax when Itachi let all the breath leave his body in a long sigh. She could tell he didn't like it when he was forced to explain himself, but it wasn't just related to him – she had learned not to trust anybody easily. "Very well," the elder Uchiha said shortly, and it was obvious how uncomfortable he was. "…I find you to be quite unique," Itachi pronounced, forcing the words out with apparent difficulty. "Unique in every way; remarkably so. I simply desire to understand what…motivates your thoughts and actions."

_Namely, what my beloved younger brother has done to earn such undying loyalty and affection. _

Itachi barely managed to refrain from adding the last, bitter sentence, but the words hung in the air between them. His words were purposefully ambiguous, but he could hardly tell Sakura the full truth; such admissions were almost humiliating for him to concede, even in the privacy of his own mind. He was truly fascinated by her, and the attraction he felt was hardly completely physical.

Something about her personality drew her to him, and he vaguely remembered this particular desire from his last relationship, so long ago. His extraordinary intelligence had always allowed him to fully understand every nuance of most people within a short time, but with Sakura, it was different. Like it had been with Katsumi, Sakura was the second person whom Itachi couldn't figure out; couldn't wrap his head around and make sense of, and he wantedto, more than he had wanted anything else in recent memory. He wanted to get the pink-haired kunoichi to sit down next to him and tell him every single little detail about her life, experiences, relationships, personality, likes, dislikes…and, really, just everything that made her _her_.

It was a discomfiting feeling, to be sure. Itachi sensed that they would be perfectly compatible emotionally and on a deeper personal level…but a physical attraction to the girl was understandable, while this burgeoning emotional connection was far riskier. From the myriad of rapidly shifting emotions that were visible across Sakura's face in response to his admission of sorts, she felt the same way.

Sakura bit her lip, unsettled. At first, it was just by the fact that she had a sneaking feeling that, in a roundabout fashion, Itachi had admitted that he found her fascinating and wanted to get to know her. This in itself was shocking. She shied away from the thought on purpose, knowing that on an emotional level, personality-wise, they would click – and that was the last thing she needed.

More disturbing and important, though, was the dawning realization that she didn't even know the answer to the question that Itachi had asked her. What _did _motivate her thoughts and actions? The first thought that occurred to her was that a lot of it had to do with…

Sakura winced, unwilling to think on it further, but her mind kept returning to that idea with dogged determination, even though it chilled her to the bone. Was it really just…Sasuke? Had she actually been living her entire life with that sole consideration, with _him,_ in mind?

…At the age of four, she had decided she wanted to be a kunoichi because of Sasuke. She had strived to cultivate her intelligence for her entire _life _for the purpose of being worthy of Sasuke's attention. She had grown her hair out for him and temporarily ended her friendship with Ino for him. She had been stupid and foolish in Team Seven because she never wanted to take any risks, learn anything new, or push herself because she didn't want to make herself look bad in front of him when she messed up. And she had left Konoha for him. Not to mention that since being in Sound, every fiber of her being and almost all of her available energy had been devoted to persuading Sasuke not to choose to succumb to Orochimaru's possession technique.

Her lips parted without her consciously realizing it, and for a few moments, her mind registered nothing but pure, utter disbelief. The horror came almost immediately afterward, making her feel cold from head to toe.

It took a little while for her to gain control of herself again, and Sakura was thankful that Itachi was so patient. "My motivations," she said quietly, and even the usually supportive Inner Sakura stayed quiet; silenced by the waves of nausea and disgust that were coursing through her, "really aren't worth discussing."

"…Ah," Itachi responded diplomatically, although he could very well guess what they were. It didn't take a genius, but it made the bitter, angry, vengeful inner voice lash out again, voicing thoughts that he was ashamed to admit had even lurked in the darker corners of his mind. _Sasuke. _Of course it all came back to Sasuke. Sasuke was the axis that his entire existence revolved around, and it appeared as though it was the same for Sakura. _What about you is so _damn _special, Sasuke—_

Sakura turned away from him then, curling up into herself, and the aura of sadness around her was almost tangible. It was unsavory behavior on his part, but Itachi couldn't stop watching her small, still figure, and he closed his eyes to keep them from reflecting any of the sorrow he felt. He still couldn't help wondering if the younger girl had ever done anything for herself in her entire life…if she had ever put herself first, or ever dared to be selfish.

The thought made his lips twist in a humorless, ironic smirk, even as his chest constricted out of sheer melancholy. It took every inch of Itachi's self-control not to reach out and stroke her hair or her shoulders comfortingly. _We're more alike than you could ever imagine, you and I. _

Fleetingly, he wondered what it would feel like to be selfish, just once. More than that, Itachi wondered if he was even capable of doing so. He also wondered if Sakura felt the same way, and decided that, deep down inside, she must.

But Itachi kept the thoughts to himself, and after he saw Sakura finally fall back into a fitful sleep, he spent the next hour trying to make himself promise to never act on them.

* * *

Itachi and Sakura spent the next three days trying to communicate with each other as little as possible. For Itachi, it was more of a necessary avoidance technique, while in the wake of the unpleasant realizations that Itachi's question had evoked in her, Sakura had felt herself slowly and steadily withdrawing from the world.

It was like Itachi had held a mirror up to her when she had least expected it, and she had looked into it expecting to see a strong, capable, intelligent, innovative kunoichi and medic-nin…and her reflection, instead, was something small and pitiable; weak and hideous. What kind of woman shaped her entire life around one man? The idea disgusted Sakura. How many times, after her father had died, had she hated her mother for falling into such a deep, long depression that she could barely function, let alone properly raise her youngest child? How many times had she bitterly wished that her mother had something or someone in her life to live for, besides her father…or that she could have learned to live for her own sake, and not compulsively shaped her life around others?

The restless thoughts dominated most of the pink-haired kunoichi's waking moments. She was such a hypocrite. It was sickening. Sakura compulsively tried to avoid all thoughts _Sasuke, _and even though the felt the weight of the alpha piece of the radio system in her concealed summoning scroll, she couldn't bring herself to check it. She couldn't sense his chakra signature in the vicinity, anyway…Itachi had said they were heading to Rain, and now that she thought about it, she didn't think that Sasuke knew the exact location of the Akatsuki headquarters. It was likely that he was retracing the path that she and Itachi had taken here, although considering their head start and Itachi's almost unnatural travel speed, he was maybe two days behind.

The mere thought of Sasuke made her shiver unhappily, and Sakura looked skyward. Their head start was lucky, because the weather was making further travel for the day impossible. She didn't exactly relish the thought of fighting through the seemingly never-ending sleet, but at least it would provide some sort of activity to occupy her mind. She felt like a mess of contradictions; tired and dispirited enough to just want to curl up into a ball and attempt retreating from her life, but at the same time, physically, she was frustrated and restless and…antsy. It was rare that she felt like this, but right now, what Sakura really wanted was to blow off some steam. She didn't know how she would go about doing this, but if she sat still any longer, therefore giving the Sasuke monster more opportunities to gnaw on her brain, she would go insane.

Itachi was off doing whatever he did whenever they set up camp for the evening, which she guessed was putting up a number of security precautions, like concealment genjutsu and such. Sakura rose stiffly, before heading into the forest without a second glance backward. It felt nice to be walking on her own.

Over the next few minutes, she felt her pace quicken from her average walk to a quick trot as she maneuvered through the complex web of gnarled tree trunks. The lower-hanging branches scraped against the material against her clothes and caught against her hair and skin, and the pink-haired kunoichi ducked her head blindly, forcing herself to go faster and faster, until she was full-out sprinting, something she hadn't done in a couple of years. Even though Sakura knew that, through the eyes of a civilian, she was moving so rapidly that she'd be nothing more than a red-and-pink blur, it just wasn't fast enough yet – not fast enough to make her feel free as a bird or forget her problems for even a fraction of a second, and that was what she wanted. Hell, she even didn't know where she was running to or even, come to think of it, _why_ she was running in the first place, because her demons would never be exorcised or left behind by something as simple as that, but at least when she was running, it hurt less than when she stood still.

Even her chakra-enhanced stamina had limits, though, and when Sakura finally came to a stop, she was panting hard, and she could feel the warm flush on her face; her heart was hammering so hard that it felt like it was in danger of exploding. A quick glance around confirmed that she was in completely unfamiliar territory…in a small clearing, probably several miles away from where she started. Far away from Itachi, and therefore, from the constantly haunting, specter-like thoughts of—

She flinched away from the thought, even as a hot wave of rage flooded over her, and impulsively she summoned one of her concealed kunai to her hands. It was poor technique, but that was the last thing on Sakura's mind as she sent it flying into one of the nearby trees, putting her whole body into the throw, and a frustrated, almost agonized screech that couldn't possibly have come from her was suddenly echoing around the clearing. She hadn't succumbed to her emotions like this since she had been about five, but all the stress of the past month was catching up to her all at once and far too quickly, and it was making her sick with fury.

She hated herself for her years of blind, unhealthy devotion to Sasuke. She hated Sasuke for his sick obsession with revenge and for making the decision to defect to Sound as a result of that…therefore putting both of them in the awful position they were in now. She hated Itachi for killing the goddamn Uchiha clan in the first place, and despised him even _more _for refusing to tell her the truth about what had happened.

_Why are you so angry? _Inner Sakura asked her sadly. _It's not Sasuke's fault, you know. And it's not ours either. You can't just stop loving somebody you've loved for most of your life. No matter how much you want to, you can't turn off your loyalty to Sasuke. Maybe Itachi had a point, and you should just let events unfold between Sasuke and Itachi as they were meant to without your interference. _

"Shut up," Sakura hissed to herself, impaling another kunai hilt-deep into an innocent, unsuspecting tree.

She had never felt so torn and excruciatingly conflicted in her life. She knew that she loved Sasuke, but she couldn't deny that something about Itachi was slowly, inexorably, drawing her closer to him instead. And to make things worse, now she couldn't even distinguish if the majority of what she felt toward Sasuke was love born out of duty and habit, because she had _always _loved him and that was how it was supposed to be, or love for the sake of love.

Sakura felt a bitter, strangled sort of giggle escape her throat. Then again, _love _implied that it was requited, reciprocated, whatever you wanted to call it. To screw the entire situation up even more, she knew that she and Sasuke would end up together, too. When Sasuke was finished with Itachi, at some point, he would decide that he wanted her, because that would be most convenient for him, and she would probably go along with it because that was how pathetic she was…but she doubted that Sasuke had the emotional capacity to truly love her the way she wanted to be loved.

It still hurt to admit it, even within the depths of her own mind. More infuriating, though, was the knowledge that all of that that may be true, but she still couldn't turn off her own sense of deep loyalty to him.

_Even if loyalty to Sasuke meant acquiescing to Itachi's death at Sasuke's hands? _her inner self asked sharply.

Sakura stopped dead, biting her lip so hard that it almost bled, and refusing to think on the issue further, for the sake of her own sanity. It took a concerted effort for her to calm down again. Her breathing was so harsh and frantic that her throat hurt from the open-mouthed gasps, and her arm muscles were sore. It took a moment for her surroundings to sink in, and another few for the pink-haired kunoichi to fully realize that she had nearly decimated the clearing in her rage and confusion. Kunai were littered around the entire area, stuck in trees and scattered on the floor, and there were heavy dents in the tree trunks where she had kicked them. Her knuckles were bleeding from several small cuts, probably from where she had punched the trees as hard as she could, before ripping the smaller, thinner stray branches off as well.

She stared, momentarily shocked. She had never had a meltdown like this before, and even scarier was the fact that she still hadn't worn herself out. She still felt restless, frustrated, angry—

Somewhere in the distance, she heard the sound of a twig snapping in half. Sakura felt her body tense up abruptly, the adrenaline already coursing through her veins, and by the time she whirled around with another kunai in her hand, Itachi was standing at the mouth of the clearing, surveying their surroundings with the minutest amount of surprise in his dark eyes.

The breath she hadn't realized she had been holding left her body in a sharp exhalation, and she felt her fingers relax on the handle of her weapon. "What are you doing here?" Sakura snapped, for once not caring about the fact that she was being purposefully rude – she had fled from camp to avoid him and any thoughts of his stupid brother, not get into another painful, emotionally charged conversation. Every time they talked; _every time, _it just compounded her feelings of anxiety and desire and guilt, and she couldn't handle it anymore.

If her tone had any effect on him, Itachi didn't show it, save for raising one eyebrow thoughtfully. "…Interrupting your little temper tantrum, evidently."

His words, and their cool, dispassionate inflection, made her see red all over again, and she glared at him venomously. _Temper tantrum. _As if she was a willful, stubborn little girl throwing a fit just for the sake of being the center of attention. "Excuse me?"

Itachi looked at her for a few moments, and she could see the concern in his eyes for a tiny fragment of a second as they swept over her bleeding knuckles. "Are you all right?"

"I'm perfectly fine," Sakura replied icily, ignoring the rapid change in subject, and moving her hands behind her back in response. "Just blowing off some steam…so you can feel free to leave now."

Itachi's only response to the curt dismissal was to lift one hand and easily withdraw one of the kunai from where it had been embedded in the tree. Sakura hadn't stopped glowering at him; she was still clutching her kunai as if it was a security blanket, and was now shifting restlessly from foot to foot, obviously waiting for him to leave. All in all, the pink-haired kunoichi looked as tense, agitated, and upset as he had been feeling for the past few days, and even though he hadn't been considering 'blowing off steam' in the same way she was, a more…acceptable alternative had just presented itself.

"Fight me."

It took a good few seconds for the words to sink in. Sakura spent the next several seriously contemplating the possibility that they had been a hallucination. But Itachi was staring at her exasperatedly, as if silently begging her not to be so overdramatic, so… "Pardon?" she asked tentatively.

This time, she could swear that he rolled his eyes minutely. "A spar," Itachi elaborated patiently. "It seems to be an acceptable method of…blowing off steam, as you say."

Sakura frowned back at him, placing one hand on her hip. As much as it killed her to admit it; firstly, he was right…a lot of her anxiety and aggression was probably compounded by the fact that she was going stir-crazy. She was a kunoichi, and so she had a healthy amount of respect for the great therapeutic effects of a spar on one's psyche. But secondly, she was fairly sure that both of them knew he could wipe the floor with her in a minute or less, even with both hands tied behind his back.

Itachi must have read the reluctance written all over her face, because he sighed a little, before returning the kunai to its former resting place in the tree. "You have my word that I will not engage my bloodline limit at any point, if we both also agree to avoid the use of any weapons."

Sakura hesitated visibly, unsure of whether to go along with it or not. Agreeing would be the most tacit admittance that she trusted Itachi, and the implications of that frightened her. Simultaneously, though, the naturally inquisitive part of her; the one that was always determined to ascertain some sort of knowledge out of any situation, was actually eager for the opportunity. It would be an absolutely outstanding educational experience, to say the least. How many people could say they fought _the _Itachi and had the opportunity to learn from it, instead of just being utterly focused on how to best escape the situation?

"Fine," Sakura said abruptly, trying to mask the nervous flutters that had just exploded in her chest. She couldn't be sure, but she had the feeling that her face was beginning to turn green. Oh, god, what had she gotten into?

She was too absorbed in her own agony of self-doubt to notice the amused half-smile that briefly touched the corner of Itachi's lips. He loved how unconsciously expressive Sakura was…even though, at the moment, she looked close to becoming violently ill. He couldn't remember the last time he had fought somebody without having to maintain the pretense, though, and he was surprised by how much he was looking forward to this…well, to be honest, to having any sort of interaction with _her_.

Still, it was becoming clear that unless he acted quickly, Sakura's nerves would win out and she would make some excuse to escape back to the campsite and then avoid him like the plague for the rest of the evening and night. "I will give you a one minute head start," Itachi conceded graciously.

Sakura disappeared in less time that it took him to blink.

* * *

She couldn't believe that, an hour ago, she had been cold. Right now, she was warm enough that she almost wanted to rip off her sweater and see what _that _distraction technique did to Itachi's little strategy. Despite her initial apprehension over the whole sparring thing, for the first time in several weeks, Sakura felt normal again. Her cheeks were warm, her heart beating faster out of sheer excitement, and adrenaline heated her blood, making her feel alive. Not only that, but her mind felt sound again; healthy and whole and calm, like it hadn't been in a long time.

She straightened, brushing her hair out of her eyes impatiently and staring around the seemingly empty forest. For a long time, she and Itachi had been stalking each other through the skeletal web of trees, and when she was lucky enough to spot him, she would try and attack. What surprised her most about their encounters was how, well, _cooperative _he was. _"Approach diagonally instead of straight on, Sakura." "An uppercut would be more effective and much harder to see coming." "If this were a real combat situation, I would advise you to avoid taijutsu unless it was absolutely necessary – focus on learning and developing more long-rage offensive ninjutsu instead. You are proficient enough at taijutsu, but by nature, it carries more risk of injury due to the closeness of such combat."_

At that comment in particular, Sakura had been hard pressed to keep herself from making a flirtatious comment over whether he had intended for the advice to come out sounding so very protective. Thankfully, Itachi had disappeared before her self-control could waver too much. He was just so…kind and controlled, though, in a way she would never have imagined the first time they had fought in the forest, shortly after they had first met and he had nearly wrenched her shoulder out of its socket. He pulled punches and purposefully slowed himself down in order to make it more of an even fight; one that she could get the most out of. That might have bothered her a little bit normally, but after all, it was just such a novel change from Sasuke's behavior that it made her head spin. For Itachi, even though he was one of the strongest shinobi in existence and practically invincible, he didn't use fighting as an ego trip, and he was definitely not intimidating and show-off-ish like Sasuke was.

Sakura's brow creased in concentration as she looked around again, noticing that any trace of Itachi's chakra signature seemed to have completely disappeared…and, to make matters worse, the forest was utterly, deathly silent. The memory of their last encounter, about fifteen minutes ago, came into mind: she had unleashed her best taijutsu combo on him; fifteen rapid, high-speed strikes, half of which Itachi had blocked easily and half of which he had let hit, before pushing her back against a tree. _"What now?" _she had gasped, while halfheartedly considering whether she could lure him close enough to kick in the chest.

Itachi smirked and took one step back, as if he'd read her mind. Even though it was embarrassing, she remembered how incredible he had looked then: open and unguarded, like he was genuinely enjoying himself. "One last round, Sakura. This time, astonish me."

And then he'd vanished in a few elusive tendrils of smoke.

The idea flickered into her mind in an instant. It hadn't taken long (about one minute, really) for Sakura to initially figure out that if she could control and enhance the flow of chakra to her knee in order to make a certain attack more excruciatingly painful and damaging than usual, she could use the same principle in a million other ways. It was theoretically a simple principle, if one had the requisite amounts of chakra control – which she appeared to have.

By that understanding, if she directed enough chakra to her foot and merely tapped it against the ground, she could open a crater beneath a person's feet…or if she decided to slam her heel or fist against the ground, the result could be a legitimate chasm or canyon splitting itself into the ground. If she directed enough chakra to her fist and punched a wall made out of solid concrete, she could reduce it to dust.

She'd tested it out, in very small ways. Over the past weeks, she had fallen into the nervous habit of crushing sizeable rocks into dust with her bare hands, and it took such little effort that it was unnerving. The implications of this revelation on her fighting style and identity as a kunoichi were staggering, and so numerous she had barely begun to comprehend them yet. Despite the considerable temptation, Sakura had refrained from using any of it in her fight with Itachi, up until now – she didn't yet know how to control exactly how much power went into one of her strikes. In other words, she wasn't exactly sure how much chakra she should use to send him flying thirty feet, as opposed to breaking his neck or ribs, or pulverizing and rupturing his internal organs upon impact.

…She didn't intend to take such a large risk right now, of course. Itachi had asked her to astonish him, not accidentally kill him.

Sakura stilled momentarily, all of her senses kicking into overdrive as she took in her surroundings. It looked like she and Itachi had fought all the way to the edge of the forest, so that they were about a mile from the lake that had been their motivating factor to stop here for the night – it wasn't frozen over, and the water was clear and clean. Itachi's chakra was still concealed, but all of her instincts told her that he was somewhere nearby. Nine times out of ten, though, he'd waited for her to attack him, so…

Feigning obliviousness, Sakura quickly made her way through the forest, heading toward the lake in an erratic, confused path. If it became clear that she was totally clueless and utterly failing at deducing his location, Itachi would take pity on her and make a move instead, and unbeknownst to him, that was what she wanted.

It took a few minutes for her to break free of the tree cover, and although she was careful to remain within arm's length of a large tree, Sakura made a point of staring out over the lake a mere few feet away, obviously dismayed that she had so thoroughly lost her quarry. Anticipation tautened her muscles, making her breath come a little faster, and she couldn't remember the last time she felt so purely exhilarated.

_Three. Two. One._

The very second that Itachi materialized, a few feet next to her in the blind spot created by where her hair fell over her face, was the same that Sakura ripped the tree out of the ground and whirled around, using both hands to swing it at him in a rapid, deadly arc.

The look on Itachi's face, in the split second before he vanished again, was priceless: a mix of utter shock and horror and just plain _what-the-fuck _that made Sakura nearly collapse with unrestrained laughter, dropping her tree on the floor. A shinobi of less extraordinary caliber would have been poleaxed, but she had been hoping that he'd be a fraction of a second too slow and she could use the tree to send him flying into the lake. The nature of Itachi's reaction was enough to make up for it, though. Besides, if she really had succeeded in her ultimate goal, it was more than likely that she would have died laughing…whereas now, the worst-case scenario was that she would split a rib or two.

Her fit of merriment was abruptly cut short when she was spun around to face none other than her victim himself. "This is most definitely not a laughing matter," Itachi told her silkily, but the effect of the serious tone was lost somewhat when she realized that the expression in his eyes didn't match at all. The fact that he could see the humor in this as well was intoxicating; where someone else would have been standoffish, angry, or humiliated at being taken by surprise like that, Itachi actually looked sincerely impressed by what she had done, and a little bit amused by her laughter.

Sakura smirked at him, pulling free of his light grip. "Well, I think it is. Are you sufficiently astonished, Itachi?"

Itachi considered her for a few moments, tilting his head thoughtfully, so that the lighthearted mood between them dissipated. "I am. What else have you been holding back, Sakura?"

"Well," she replied, after a moment's thought. "I refrained from demonstrating the jutsu that enables me to grow up to three times my normal size, so that I may eliminate any and all opponents by merely stepping on them."

Sakura didn't know how she managed to say it while keeping a straight face, but watching Itachi's expression was enough to make her restraint give way, and she dissolved in laughter for the second time in as many minutes.

"Oh, very funny," Itachi replied sourly, looking rather annoyed at himself for being momentarily deceived. "Your sparkling wit has left me speechless with admiration."

"Yeah, I've got it all," Sakura responded airily, turning away. "Sparkling wit _and_ the enviable ability to rip trees out of the ground and use it to bludgeon whichever random Akatsuki member happens to be standing nearby – _ouch_!"

Itachi tugged on her hair lightly, forcing her to stop. "And yet, you lack the ability to end a confrontation when you want to," he commented pointedly. "Why, Sakura, this may be your only liability."

Sakura craned her neck, trying to see behind her; Itachi had wound one of his hands into the length of her hair, and seemed to be refusing to let go. "What the hell are you doing?" she demanded, infuriated.

Itachi gently pulled her back to him by the hair, and Sakura glared at him mutinously as he inspected the long locks wrapped around his hand. "If I were a real opponent," he remarked, "I could most certainly use this against you. It is leverage, in the most literal way – just now, I could have pulled you into a katana or another physical attack, or used it to restrain you when you would otherwise be on the verge of escape."

Sakura fidgeted uncomfortably, trying to think of a satisfactory argument. "I could put it into a ponytail," she countered at last, giving his hair a meaningful look, while simultaneously remembering Ino's gorgeous hairstyle.

"That would be even more convenient for an enemy to abuse," Itachi retorted. "One of my contemporaries once made a memorable comment after dealing with a Mist kunoichi; a prisoner attempting to escape. He grabbed her by the ponytail and pulled her back like, I quote, a _dog on a leash._"

Sakura winced defensively, and taking pity, Itachi slowly untangled his fingers from her hair, letting his fingers linger in a light caress. Despite his criticisms, it was truly beautiful, if totally out of place on a kunoichi. Soft, nearly waist-length, and, most outstandingly, a shiny, attention-catching pink. "It is very pretty," he admitted self-consciously, feeling his face warm with a blush. "But the style is not quite appropriate for someone who risks being in field combat. Why do you keep it so long?"

She could hardly believe that Itachi had just complimented her hair, but the question made her tense up all over again. This time, though, Sakura couldn't summon the will to be dishonest about it. She sighed, reaching up and running her fingers through her hair self-consciously. "When I was younger, there was a rumor that Sasuke liked girls with long hair," she replied shortly. "So, of course, I grew my hair out."

Itachi tilted his head to the side, and her response made him feel more troubled than he let on. Tentatively, he reached out to Sakura, twining his fingers in the length of her hair again and lifting it up off her neck, arranging the ends near the top of her head. It created the illusion that her hair only fell to her shoulders, and he took it in for a minute. The look made her appear more mature; accentuating the perfect structure of her cheekbones, her facial shape – she had an especially cute forehead – and the sweet contours of her lips. He hadn't thought anything could make the pink-haired kunoichi look even more beautiful than she already did, but personally, he thought this hairstyle would suit her much more.

The look of appreciation was clear in his eyes, and it made Sakura blush a little. "Do you like it?" she asked shyly.

Itachi released her hair, letting it fall back around her shoulders and giving her a somewhat disapproving look. "It does not matter whether I do or not," he said firmly. If there was one thing he wanted to be able to teach her, it was this. "More than that, it does not matter how Sasuke feels regarding the issue – or any issue directly relating to _your _life and the way you live it. Live life for you, Sakura," he told her quietly, "not for anybody else."

The simple message took a moment to sink in, and when it did, Sakura was surprised to find a slight, genuine smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. More than any advice he had given her in the past hour, this touched her the most, especially considering how hurt and upset she had been earlier. It was interesting, how Itachi, of all people, could know what to say…or how to help, in his own way, when she was struggling.

Sakura wasn't sure what on earth possessed her to do it, but it just felt like the right thing to do. Before she could second-guess herself, she reached out, flinging her arms around Itachi and latching onto him tightly, almost unable to deal with the suddenness and strength of the overwhelming emotions she felt. She was so grateful for so many things. Itachi's sense of consideration, and his kindness in finding something that would get rid of her bad mood and make her happy again, his patience during their training session and his surprising sense of humor in response to her using a tree to attack him…not to mention his giving her the most relevant advice anybody had ever thought to give her. "Thank you," she whispered sincerely, her voice muffled by his chest.

She gave it a few moments, and just as she was about to pull back, she felt Itachi somewhat uncertainly wrapping his arms around her in return, pulling her close and holding her as tightly as she had initially held him. Sakura stiffened, but slowly relaxed into the embrace, turning her cheek so that it rested against his chest, and closing her eyes as she ran one hand down his muscled upper arm. It surprised her a little; Itachi didn't seem like the type to be so open and expressive about affection, and the fact that he was doing this made her feel…special, but she wholeheartedly enjoyed it. It was just a hug, but it was one of the most tender, meaningful interactions they'd had yet, and it made Sakura's chest tighten a little bit, especially when Itachi tilted his head carefully, so that his lips pressed against the top of her head in a gentle kiss.

He knew it was wrong on his part, but Itachi cared for her so much that it was frightening – and just for a little while, he wanted to take the advice he had given Sakura. _Live life for you. _

They stood like that for a long time, silently basking in one another's company and the novelty of such a gentle exchange of affection, before Sakura finally pulled away, and he almost wanted to take her by the hands and pull her back to him. She was a surprisingly receptive listener, and there was so much that Itachi wanted to tell her while he had the chance – not to settle, not to be with somebody who wouldn't treat her with all the love and respect she deserved; not to be with somebody who ultimately wouldn't be kind to her, put her first, and make her genuinely happy.

In other words, not to be with Sasuke.

The thought made Itachi want to laugh bitterly. That was selfishness that he was truly incapable of. _Here, Sakura, throw away any hope of a future with your lifelong love – however misguided that may be – for three months with me, because we are obviously much more well suited for one another. _

The elder Uchiha didn't anticipate the hot wash of intense resentment that flooded over him at the thought. The irony was too much. He, who had always valued love and a peaceful existence over any other, was condemned to suffer like this, while Sasuke…Sasuke, who placed a higher emphasis on power and revenge, was lucky enough to have Sakura. To have her love, and a long life with which he could enjoy it with. And the ultimate indignity was that he likely did not even appreciate what he had been given. That he had been willing to throw all of it away; all of what Itachi had fought to give him…that he had been on the verge of willingly succumbing to Orochimaru's possession technique, just to fulfill his obsession with revenge. That was unforgivable.

The thought made Itachi sick, but more than that, the fact that he was actually harboring such dark and unkind feelings toward his own beloved younger brother, made him feel worse.

There were no right answers in this situation.

As if Sakura knew what he was thinking, she smiled up at him then; sweetly and trustingly and, above all, so regretfully that it made him ache inside, and this time, when she turned around to leave, Itachi didn't stop her.

That night, and for the few that followed it, she didn't resist his attempts at conversation. They stayed up late talking about anything that came to mind: innocuous topics, really, and Sakura noticed how Itachi always steered the conversation away from himself, keeping it focused on her – but thankfully, he avoided the topic of Sasuke, which she was grateful for.

As much as Sakura would have liked to not consciously think about Sasuke again, it became clear that, like a painful, intractable disease, he was something that couldn't be ignored. That was the last anxious thought she'd had before falling asleep, curled securely next to Itachi.

She woke up in the middle of that night, covered in a cold sweat; panicking and convinced that she'd just heard a suspicious beep from her alpha radio piece. It took a few minutes of fumbling around desperately, but the pink-haired kunoichi was finally able to unearth it from her summoning scroll. Her heart hammered anxiously as she looked at the proximity sensor, which was flashing red. _Shit. _Sakura flipped it to the side, rapidly pushing in programming buttons as she felt all the blood drain from her face. Thankfully, she could keep a cool head in stressful situations, but this scenario was something out of her worst nightmares.

A radar appeared on the screen, and four small, pulsing dots were on the very edge, inching their way closer to their current location as she watched with wide, horrified eyes. This meant that from her best estimations, for some reason, Sasuke and the team had decided to pull an all-nighter of travel, and he was only about half a day away, due south…and getting closer every minute. The kami only knew how close they could come in few hours it took for the sun to rise.

She brought her knees to her chest, directing paranoid looks around and into the darkness. To make things worse, she didn't dare to wake Itachi up right now – he was still laboring under the delusion that she was leading him _to _Sasuke, not away from him.

Sakura spent the remaining three hours until sunrise getting dressed and pacing the perimeter of their campsite restlessly, feeling so anxious that she was on the verge of getting ill. She was furious at herself for her carelessness, and for letting her own immaturity and inability to deal interfere with the larger picture. She should have been checking the alpha radio piece every other minute, not trying to ignore it until it was too late.

She came up with a plan, though. It wasn't hard for a medic-nin to flawlessly feign an illness, and as soon as the sun rose, Sakura made sure that Itachi woke up to the sight of her sitting across from the dead fire and shivering spasmodically, while simultaneously being afflicted by a piteous cough. His immediate concern was tangible, and so strong that it made her feel guilty. All hints of the cold, emotionless Itachi were gone as he stroked her tangled hair away from her pale forehead, staring into her purposefully large, limpid green eyes anxiously.

She was too cool to the touch, her skin pale and trembling, and his pulse spiked with worry. They had been traveling and sleeping outdoors in extraordinarily low temperatures for several days, and remorse was a sharp pain in his chest. While he was more than accustomed to such things, it had been foolish and inconsiderate of him to assume the same for her.

"We need to get you to an indoor establishment of some sort in order to properly warm up and get some rest," Itachi informed her, obviously trying to keep his tone as calm and reassuring as possible. His experience with illness had only heightened his compassionate instincts when he saw the suffering of others, and with Sakura especially, it was difficult.

Sakura thought fast, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself down, while Itachi moved quickly, packing up their supplies into his summoning scroll in record time. From her study of chakra patterns during the night, she had realized that they were fairly conveniently located. There was a small town to their west; and about the same distance to the east, there was a large, bustling town. Quickly, she deduced the reasoning her team would come to. Evil Akatsuki members with a hostage did not want to risk being seen in a large town, where there would be an infinitely greater chance of running into teams of legitimate shinobi who were stopping through after or on their way to missions. The Akatsuki member would go with the safer option, and head to the small town…which also happened to be nearer to Rain, if on the off chance Sasuke did know where the Akatsuki headquarters were.

"There's a town to the east of us," she blurted suddenly, fervently hoping he would go with it, and praying for her calculations regarding Sasuke's actions to be correct. She was restless; although Sasuke and the team were smart enough to keep their chakra signatures flawlessly concealed, she knew they were close. Dangerously close. With the aid of the Sharingan, Sasuke would be able to break Itachi's concealment genjutsu about a second. "It's about ninety miles, and—"

"That sounds more than sufficient," Itachi replied tersely.

Without thinking twice about it, he bent down, carefully lifting Sakura with one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back. Momentarily forgetting the pretense, the pink-haired kunoichi stiffened and nearly kicked him in the ribs. "You can really put me down – I'm still capable of walking—"

"Trust me, Sakura."

With that, they disappeared in a few tendrils of smoke.

* * *

In her original panicked estimations of the situation, she had forgotten one thing: she was still traveling with an Akatsuki member, and therefore, she held a great advantage. Sakura knew firsthand that none of her team had yet mastered the ability to perform a transportation jutsu for distances longer than a mile – it was a complex technique, after all. Itachi had completed a trip that would have taken them three hours in about a minute. In response to her suggestion, they had both used a basic henge technique to transform their appearances into nondescript brown-eyed brunettes before walking into town as well, so…

Sakura sighed shakily, seating herself on the edge of the small bed, as Itachi closed and locked the door behind them. The tension was making her nauseous, and the small tremors that raced through her body were entirely genuine. She thought that she and Itachi had taken enough precautions to avoid Sasuke and throw him off their trail, but there was no way to be sure.

She shook her head determinedly, trying to take her mind off it, and swallowed over her aching, sandpaper-dry throat. She got up again, walking through the small room with quick, nervous steps, and snapped the blinds shut, after peering through them nervously. It was a gray, dim day, and she couldn't see anything out the window save for empty streets and nondescript storefronts.

Itachi's touch at her shoulder was enough to make her jump, and it was only after the quizzical look he directed at her face that Sakura remembered she was supposed to be sick. With a halfhearted smile, she moved past him, awkwardly sliding into the bed and burying her head into the pillow. They had taken the only room available in the entire inn: third floor, and a far cry from the luxurious accommodations they had enjoyed before. The room as a whole was small, dark, dingy, and a uniform shade of slate gray, including the cracked walls, the bedding, and the thin, battered carpet. The bed was hard and the blankets threadbare, and to make matters worse, the innkeeper had muttered something about an 'infestation' as he had handed Itachi the keys.

It didn't matter, though. They just needed some place, _any _place, to wait Sasuke out.

She exhaled slowly, feeling her hand fist in the blankets. Part of her still couldn't believe she was doing this. An image of Sasuke's face materialized behind her closed eyelids – hurt, angry, betrayed, and she felt herself tremble a little, out of sorrow and regret. She hated herself so much for putting him through this, but—

_This will never work, Sakura, _her inner self told her somberly. _Itachi's never going to tell you the truth about the massacre – he's determined to take it to his grave. How much longer are you, Itachi, and Sasuke going to keep playing this sick cat-and-mouse game? _

Sakura shoved the thoughts aside, feeling a sense of newfound determination flood over her instead. For the first time in her life, she was doing what she thought was right; not just going along with Sasuke's agenda. And that was a step forward, right?

The day passed agonizingly slowly, though – Sakura fell into a fitful sleep several times, but she always awoke after a few minutes, unable to shake the feeling that Sasuke would burst through the door at any given second. Itachi loyally stayed by her side, often asking if there was anything he could do for her, and even though she was just faking recuperation, she was glad for the company.

At one point, though, when he had left to bring them back a late lunch from one of the eateries down the street, she couldn't stand it anymore. Sakura slid off the bed and sat on the floor, raking her fingers through her hair and trying to regulate her breathing. This was getting outrageous. Her mind had devolved into a ping pong game of _Itachi Sasuke Itachi Sasuke_, and it was driving her insane. She had to make a choice, but the prospect of _that _made her feel even more ill. She didn't know what to do, and she had never felt so confused and torn in her life.

There was a slight squeaking noise from under the bed, and Sakura's eyes widened as she instinctively backed away from it, momentarily forgetting her inner conflict as she remembered what the innkeeper had said about an _infestation. _Shit. Did cockroaches squeak?

That was when an adorable little gray mouse poked its nose out from under the bed, watching her cautiously, and Sakura felt all the breath leave her body in a relieved sigh. She held her hand out to it, giving the mouse a genuine smile, and after tilting its head to the side and sniffing her hand with a twitching nose, it scrambled onto her hand, curling up into a ball and regarding her with its bright, inquisitive eyes.

She brought her hands close to her chest, cradling her mouse affectionately. Regardless of the fact that in Sound, the creatures had been considered filth and vermin, and Sasuke, Suigetsu, and Karin had all been possessed of the unfortunate tendency to try and cruelly exterminate as many of them as possible, Sakura liked most animals, and this one was a welcome distraction. She petted its soft fur gently, until it squeaked with contentment, and Sakura lost herself for several minutes in doing so. She'd always wanted a pet, or better yet, _lots _of pets to care for and devote love and attention to, but unfortunately, she'd never had the opportunity.

When the door swung open, Sakura flinched back warily, and her mouse literally propelled itself from her hands, so that it trembled in a heap next to her knees. Itachi merely blinked in response to the strange tableau, and when he took one small step forward, Sakura reached out protectively, trying to shield her mouse. "Don't hurt him!"

But it was too late; the mouse turned tail and fled, squeaking in terror, and even though Sakura couldn't really blame him for the reaction, she deflated visibly, turning away and staring at the window. At least Itachi hadn't taken a page out of Sasuke's book and used her mouse for target practice.

Hearing a slight rustling sound, Sakura glanced back over at Itachi, feeling her eyes widen in surprise. He had opened one of the two boxes of food he'd brought in, and broken off a little piece of shrimp tempura, nestling it in the palm of his hand, before somewhat warily positioning it underneath the bed. She watched, fascinated, and when Itachi withdrew his hand, her mouse was curled up in his palm, munching the shrimp contentedly.

Sure, it was somewhat irrational, but Sakura beamed up at him, reaching out to pet her mouse. "Thank you," she murmured, feeling as shy as Itachi looked.

Itachi didn't say anything, but seated himself close next to her, and they shared custody of the mouse, taking turns gently holding and petting him, and letting their hands brush against each other at length. There were no words necessary, but Sakura felt a suspicious tightening in her throat. It hurt, how much they related to each other, and how much they had in common. She knew, with a sense of awful finality, that the relative peace of their time together would have to come to an end, one way or another. Something awful was catalyzing; something that she had no power to stop.

And regardless of her deeply-ingrained sense of loyalty to Sasuke, Sakura knew unequivocally that, at the same time, she wasn't ready to say goodbye to Itachi just yet.

_Will you ever be_? Inner Sakura asked sadly, speaking the truth Sakura didn't have the courage to articulate on her own.

There was no way to live with both. There was no way to reconcile one with the other.

And that, in all honesty, was possibly the only question Sakura didn't want to know the answer to.

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

I sincerely apologize for the late update, guys, but I really hope that you found it worth the wait – and, as always, any and all feedback would be very, very much appreciated. Also, thank you so much to the amazing SwiftKick for being wonderful enough to read this over for me!

Lastly, I would like to wish every single one of you an overwhelmingly enjoyable (and safe!) holiday season full of family, friends, food, good times, and awesomeness. :)


	11. Catalyst

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was marvelous enough to leave a review. :)_

_Chapter Eleven: Catalyst_

* * *

Sasuke had never felt so much adrenaline coursing through his veins at once.

Before he could even say anything, Karin turned back toward him sharply, her long hair fluttering behind her. "The chakra patterns up ahead, about a mile from here, indicate what I think is a typical concealment genjutsu," she said rapidly, tripping over her words in her haste to get them out. "Do you think—"

"Probably," Suigetsu interjected, his voice tense, as his fingers visibly tightened around the handle of his sword. "In all the time that we've been searching, we haven't run into any concealment genjutsu right out in the middle of the woods, and I don't think that teams of Lightning shinobi would typically use them, either."

Sasuke closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, they were crimson with the light of the Sharingan. He stopped dead, flinging his arm out to prevent Jugo, Suigetsu, or Karin from crossing the threshold he could now see so clearly, and he felt his insides clench up as if an icy hand was squeezing them tightly. The chakra signature of the genjutsu, so similar and yet so different from his own…it was simply, unmistakably Itachi's, and it turned his stomach.

Irrationally, he remembered being much younger; five or six, and lying in one of their house's many courtyards, plucking strands of soft grass and impatiently waiting for his brother to return home from whatever mission on which he had gone. As most young children did, even though they'd had no formal training yet, Sasuke was easily able to identify the chakra signatures of his family. He would wait in the courtyard for ages, playing with toy kunai, drowsing by the small pond while watching the koi, or trying to summon the strength to walk up trees like cousin Shisui did. As soon as he detected even the faintest trace of Itachi's chakra signature entering the vicinity, no matter what he was doing, Sasuke would be up and running, in a hurry to be the first one to greet him. After days, sometimes weeks, of loneliness, Itachi would be there to give him a hug and ruffle his hair and practice shuriken with him.

As a child, there was nothing that gave him greater joy than that. Not even when his mother used to pluck sun-warmed tomatoes right off her favorite plant and sit in the garden with him as they ate them together.

Of course, that night had changed everything.

Jugo's light touch brought Sasuke out of his reverie, and he shook his head, irritated at himself for the foolishly weak lapse. A dark smirk touched the corners of his lips for an instant. Perhaps he had been inaccurate in his earlier assessment…Itachi's chakra signature still bought him joy. Joy in the idea that, shortly afterward, he was going to hold his dear older brother down, torture him mentally and physically until he screamed for mercy, and then slowly slit his throat.

And he was going to enjoy every moment of it.

Sasuke shattered the concealment genjutsu in less than a second. Predictably enough, there was nothing but forest, but like anybody with an iota of common sense, Itachi would have put up the genjutsu for miles around the area where he set the campsite.

"We should split up," Jugo spoke suddenly, scanning the vast area. "Their chakra signatures are concealed, but if we all go in different directions and meet up at the center, we have a greater chance of finding them faster."

Sasuke only nodded tersely, the muscles in his jaw stiffening. The four of them headed off in different directions in less than a second, and he tore through the forest impatiently, regardless of the thick coating of sleet and ice that covered the ground. Itachi was close; he could feel it. The final confrontation that he had been anticipating for years was, for the first time, so close that it was tangible, and it was an unbelievable feeling.

Too late, the younger Uchiha realized that if he and Itachi were going to fight today, he was running on only five hours of sleep the previous night, and he frowned almost imperceptibly. Regardless of the adrenaline that was flooding through his veins, making him feel as if he had touched a live wire, the lack of sleep was still an undesirable disadvantage.

The feeling only lasted for a few moments, though. In this situation, Itachi would be taken by surprise – hell, the sun had only begun to rise ten or fifteen minutes ago. Besides, he had been relentlessly preparing for this moment for the past seven years. If worst came to worst, as well, there were also the abilities granted to him by the curse seal…

Sasuke's expression hardened into a mask of unshakable determination as he directed another look upward, at the slowly ascending sun; a dull, veiled orange in the gray sky. By the time the sun set on this day, there would only be one Uchiha left among the living…and he fully intended to be that one.

Despite his confidence, though, after several more minutes of a thorough search, Sasuke felt his muscles stiffening with intense wariness. He hadn't found any hint of Itachi or Sakura's presence in the perimeter, and almost more disturbingly, he hadn't heard a single sound from any one of his teammates. Considering Jugo's bull-in-a-china-shop tendencies and Suigetsu's habit of loudly hacking at trees with swords, slashing deep gouges into the bark in order to keep himself from losing his path and circling around the same area twice…it was suspicious.

Sasuke's mind reeled. Come to think of it, he hadn't heard a single sound, _period, _since entering the perimeter. Not a single rustle caused by some woodland animal, or even one fragment of birdsong or an innocuous chirp.

He stopped in the middle of the path, looking around the forest with distrustful eyes, even though on the inside, he was threatening to panic. _It's a trap._

Sasuke burst into a sprint, his mind working furiously as he ran – the only thing on his mind was finding his teammates before something horrific could befall them. How could this have happened? His Sharingan was supposed to dispel other genjutsu, unless Itachi was even more proficient at such things than he had originally estimated. A multi-layered genjutsu. Of course. A technique used to disorient any sort of intruders among the area. How could he have not seen through it?

He burst into the center of the perimeter, gasping for breath and looking around wildly. Karin, Suigetsu, and Jugo were already there, and they looked as disconcerted as he felt. Part of Sasuke realized what was going on, but he couldn't admit it; couldn't accept that it was really happening. "Where are they?" he barked, letting his gaze flicker back and forth between each of his teammates, refusing to believe what was going on.

Suigetsu ran one hand through his disheveled hair, and his unnaturally pale skin was flushed from exertion. "Sasuke, I couldn't find any sign of them, anywhere."

Karin nodded her agreement. "I can't even detect any trace of their respective chakra in any direction from here – it's like they vanished into thin air," she confirmed unhappily.

Sasuke felt himself look at Jugo, and a small part of him was pleading unashamedly, begging the last member of their team to be the one bearer of good news. Jugo stared at the ground, taking note of the small pile of blackened wood, with ashes scattered about them. He knelt immediately, pressing his hand against the wood and touching the ashes, and he frowned with concentration. Sasuke couldn't help but hold his breath, shifting from foot to foot impatiently, and when Jugo finally straightened, he looked troubled. "Still warm," he said quietly.

The implications of the words took a moment to sink in, and when they did, Sasuke felt as if somebody had brutally sucker punched him in the stomach.

Not only had they somehow missed Itachi and Sakura, they had missed them by a matter of minutes.

Something inside him shut down, and despite his usual reticence at showing any sort of emotion around his teammates, Sasuke felt himself close his eyes, reaching up and burying his face in his hands for a moment, before raking his fingers through his hair with a quiet sigh of utter despair and frustration. All the adrenaline he had been counting on deserted him, taking the bravado and confidence with it…leaving him feeling hopeless and weary to the bone.

He would feel the anger; the blind, overwhelming rage, in a few moments. He would rather feel that than _this. _

Out of the corner of his eye, Sasuke saw Karin push her glasses up her nose, her head swiveling from one side of the clearing to the other as her eyes narrowed in thought. "What is it?" Suigetsu asked hastily, in an obvious attempt to distract him.

"…I think I know what might be going on," Karin replied slowly. "I can sense chakra patterns from here, and it looks like that there are two towns from here, about ninety miles each way."

Sasuke felt his shoulders stiffen again, as he caught the drift of what she was thinking. There was still hope. One way or another, he could still track down Itachi today. "Continue."

Karin restlessly paced the length of the abandoned campsite, before coming to a sharp stop and looking eastward. "Judging from the concentration of people, that town is about four times the size of the one to the west of us."

"So, busy," Suigetsu supplied thoughtfully, scratching a diagram of the situation out into the dirt with the point of his sword. "In simple terms – the eastern town is big and full of people. The western town is little and not nearly as populated."

"If you were an Akatsuki member with a hostage, where would you go?" Jugo mused, staring at Suigetsu's diagram.

"West," all four teenagers said in unison, looking at one another.

"Besides," Sasuke interjected, taking a few steps westward as he thought aloud. "_He's _probably heading toward the Akatsuki headquarters, and according to what Orochimaru mentioned, those are in Rain. The smaller town is much closer to Rain, anyway."

Karin nodded resolutely, closing her eyes in concentration. "I just need to find the barest hint of Sakura's chakra signature…from there, it should be the easiest thing in the world to track her. And, I mean, I _know _Sakura – I'm pretty sure I could figure it out, even if Itachi made her conceal her chakra or something."

Sasuke let all the breath leave his body in a slow exhalation, letting his head fall forward a few inches and reaching out, bracing his fist against the nearest tree as he tried to decide what to do. "…No. Forget Sakura," he ordered at last, his voice cool and clinical. "It doesn't matter. In the larger scheme of things, she's not important. After all, her chakra signature is weak, compared to…his, so we have to focus on Itachi. He's the priority, and we need to find him _today_. If we go back to the threshold of the original genjutsu, you should be able to get a good sense of his chakra."

Jugo, Suigetsu, and Karin eventually nodded, and after a few moments, all four of them silently turned and headed back to the outskirts of the campsite.

In all the time they had lingered there, none of them noticed the small black radio unit, flashing the miniscule green light that indicated it was recording, that had been secured to an upper branch of the tree Sasuke had leaned against.

* * *

Night had just fallen, but this did nothing to make her feel less uneasy.

Sakura had spent the entire day in a heightened state of trepidation, halfway expecting Sasuke to come crashing through the door at any given moment, and as it had been several hours and he hadn't yet, she knew that she should have been feeling relieved.

However, nighttime also meant that it had been long enough for Sasuke and the team to mistakenly travel one hundred and eighty miles west of their current location and then thoroughly scour every inch of the small western border town and its surrounding area. It should have become painfully clear to them that she and Itachi most definitely weren't anywhere near there at all, and Sakura couldn't help feeling anxious about the possibility that Sasuke had figured out that he'd been duped, and then begun to double back and head straight to this area. That course of action was a stretch, to be sure, especially considering the fact that he and the team had pulled an all-nighter of travel the night before…but she knew more than anybody the driven, desperate lengths that Sasuke would go in order to fulfill his fanatical obsession with revenge.

The only good thing about this hotel room was the small window seat, Sakura mused, as she peered through the half-shut blinds one more time, as she had been doing for the past hour or so. Again, there was nothing but darkness, and her shoulders relaxed fractionally. _Let it rest, _Inner Sakura advised her, and realistically, the pink-haired kunoichi was forced to admit that the chances of Sasuke finding them tonight were extremely slim.

Sakura slid out of the window seat, stretching her stiff muscles, and Itachi glanced up at her, from his place on the bed calmly perusing his book of poetry. The two of them had been sitting together, doing things they shouldn't have been doing – namely, talking to one another, and at one brief instance, holding hands – for the better part of two hours, before she had come back to her senses and fled to the relative security of the window seat, muttering something cringe-worthy about _wanting to appreciate the lovely scenery_. She hadn't dared to look him in the eye since, and her face flushed a little as she nodded toward the bathroom door. "…I'll be in there if you need me, all right?"

Without waiting for a reply, Sakura crossed the small room hastily, shutting and locking the bathroom door behind her as she sighed with relief. The bathroom looked like a refurbished broom closet, with eerily dim lighting and appliances that looked like they wouldn't withstand a solid kick, but it was away from Itachi, and despite what the more troublesome parts of her were trying to say, that _was _what she needed.

The water from the shower was lukewarm at best and the soap and shampoo provided was an overly saccharine berry scent, but the shower did succeed in calming her down a little bit. It simultaneously illustrated how worn out and exhausted she felt – the day had been filled with too much sustained tension for her liking. After she was dry and dressed again, securely enveloped in the warmth of the shirt and pants Itachi had given her during their first night together, Sakura finally turned to her genjutsu-disguised summoning scroll, fighting the urge to gulp with apprehension. The information she garnered from the radio's alpha piece right now would either give her the security to sleep through the night…or she would have to rack her brains for an excuse to get Itachi out of here as soon as possible. Needless to say, she would infinitely prefer the first option.

The metal of the radio piece was warm in her hands, and intending to check the proximity sensor first, Sakura frowned when she saw the small, flashing blue light at the top of it. It was good news, essentially – red meant the proximity sensor was going off, while blue only meant that…there was a recorded message of some sort.

Sakura's eyes widened somewhat as she stared at the piece disbelievingly. This was the first time she'd used this particular feature; all the secondary pieces she had installed at first had been crippled due to the blizzard. During the few agonizing hours that she had been waiting for Itachi to wake up, she placed her one remaining secondary piece up in a tree in their campsite. It was more something to kill time while she was keyed up on adrenaline than something to actually expect results from, but…

She clutched the piece a little bit tighter, glancing toward the door. She didn't want to risk flipping the thing on and having Itachi overhear a snippet of Sasuke's voice – it wasn't likely that he would take too kindly to her plan. Even though it made her feel a little bit stupid, Sakura backed into the shower stall again, made sure the tub was dry enough, and then sat down in it, tugging the frosted glass door shut. A meager level of protection, yes, but it was better than nothing.

Sakura hesitated, feeling her heart hammer with the sudden, overwhelming onset of nerves. She pressed the requisite button with trembling fingers, and felt herself instinctively pulling it closer to her chest, curling her body around it.

The reception was interspersed with the occasional bout of static, but the sound quality was enough to take Sakura's breath away for a moment. She could hear the wind gusting in the clearing, rattling the skeletal branches loudly, as clearly as if she were standing there herself. More than that, she could hear the voices of her teammates – soft and muted, really, and made somewhat garbled by the combined forces of the wind and the static. But it was simply, undeniably _them _– Karin, Suigetsu, and Jugo; her teammates and closest friends and the people she had spent every moment of the past three years with, and she knew that before this she had missed them and thought of them often, but hearing their voices again created an ache of magnitude and intensity that she couldn't have ever imagined.

Sakura sighed ruefully, leaning sideways so that her shoulder rested on the rusty shower faucet. They were speaking quietly, but it was an uncanny feeling to hear her own name repeated over and over again by each of them, between bursts of static, and in tones of mingled frustration and panic and despair. She regretted putting them through this almost more than she regretted it for Sasuke. She knew that all of them probably didn't know that she and Itachi were together, but…

Sasuke…she had yet to hear him, though, and belatedly, the pink-haired kunoichi realized that she was shifting positions restlessly. _Like a drug addict going through withdrawals, in need of a fix, _Inner Sakura told her mean-spiritedly, although she ignored this.

She expected it, and braced herself—

"_Where are they?" _

All the breath left her body, as if somebody had punched her in the stomach, as subconsciously, Sakura pulled the radio piece even closer, leaning forward so that her forehead was braced against it. Her breath was coming unevenly, but she couldn't have anticipated the effect that just hearing Sasuke's voice again would have on her. She would have liked to say she wasn't one of those girls to whom out of sight meant out of mind, but hearing him…it brought all of it back in a way that she couldn't possibly describe, in an intense, nearly overwhelming wave of emotion. Regardless of what she thought was developing between her and Itachi, this was love…and as impossible as it sounded, she had forgotten the sheer strength of her feelings for him. _Oh, god, Sasuke. _He sounded so frustrated and desperate and almost scared that she could imagine his face in her head, and she couldn't help but want to reach out, brushing her fingers through his long, shaggy hair and wrapping her arms around his neck—

She took several deep breaths, trying in vain to calm herself down. Two hours ago, if somebody had asked her whether she would risk Sasuke's condemnation and hatred for voicing her suspicions about Itachi to him…she would have replied yes, after a few moments of thought. Now, she had been reduced to her prior state of utter indecision. It was humiliating to admit, yes, but it was the truth.

She forced herself to start paying attention again, pulling the radio piece up to her ear in order to hear better. It was Karin talking this time, saying something about…her? The wind had picked up again, making the static worse, but Karin was saying her name, and the sense of urgency in her tone was palpable.

"_No_," Sasuke replied immediately, and Sakura felt her muscles stiffen as she stared at the radio piece, unsure of – and not wanting to believe – what she was hearing.

But the words kept coming, in a hard, unmerciful, unbroken line. "_Forget Sakura. It doesn't matter – in the larger scheme of things, she's not important." _A brief burst of static, and his voice became fainter with the wind. "_We have to focus on Itachi. He's the priority, and we need to find him today. If we go back to the threshold of the original genjutsu, you should be able to get a good sense of his chakra._"

There were more sounds, but Sakura felt herself clicking off and lowering the radio slowly, her arm going limp and numb. There was a clattering sound, and she looked down, dazedly realizing that it had fallen from her hand entirely and landed against the porcelain of the tub.

It was all right, really. It was understandable that Sasuke would think that finding Itachi was the more important thing.

_Stop making excuses for him, Sakura, _Inner Sakura told her acidly. _Try and think for yourself for once. _

_No. Forget Sakura._

The cold dismissal, in the exact words of the boy she loved more than anything else in the entire world, seemed to ricochet off the closed space and echo in her ears, over and over and over again.

She hunched over, curling up into a ball and burying her head in her arms, trying to cover her ears, but it wouldn't stop.

_It doesn't matter._

He mattered the world to her, and those weren't just the words of an overdramatic teenager.

_In the larger scheme of things, she's not important._

Her throat closed over completely, and the backs of her eyes began to sting.

_We have to focus on Itachi. He's the priority, and we need to find him today._

She had been willing to die for him. To fight Itachi, even though it was a suicidal course of action, just so that she could take him out and Sasuke could live.

And he…he just didn't care. The writing was on the wall as it had never been before: cold, stark, matter-of-fact, and absolutely, completely undeniable. There was no way around it – she couldn't delude herself any longer. Sasuke didn't care about her _at all. _

This was the person she had shaped almost every facet of her entire life around, and Sakura curled her hands into fists, pressing them against her temples and pressing down until it hurt. Detachedly, she heard herself sniffling, but in the same instant, as if acting independently of the rest of her body, her fingers curled around the radio piece again, before vehemently flinging it against the wall, where it landed with a loud crash.

She had done so much for him. She had loved him. She had…

Sakura tilted her aching neck back against the wall, feeling her breaths come faster and faster. The sensation of her chest being cleaved in two was slowly dissipating, only to become replaced by a kind of barely restrained fury and rage that made her vision blur.

Not to mention that for the past several weeks, she had been trying to force herself away from Itachi, just out of consideration for Sasuke – even at the times when she had wanted the opposite, for her own sake.

It ended now. _All _of it. She was done with mindlessly following Sasuke, and she was so damn tired of living her life in the hopes of attaining somebody who didn't even care for her. And, more than that, she refused to just sit around and wait for the day that Sasuke decided to 'restore his clan', so he could merely use her for that sole purpose.

_Fuck you, Sasuke. _The thought was more vicious and spiteful than Sakura thought she was capable of, but perversely liberating at the same time. She stood unsteadily, wrenching open the frosted glass door of the shower stall and stumbled out of it.

She was hurting inside, in a way that she couldn't describe, almost as if somebody was slowly, mercilessly twisting a knife into her ribs. Sakura had always hoped that at least some vestige of Sasuke, deep down inside, harbored some degree of love for her…and the knowledge that it wasn't the case was incredibly painful. It was heartbreak of the kind that she had never experienced before.

The anger was there, yes, protecting her from feeling the full impact of the pain – but Sakura had never been able to hold onto those emotions for long, and she feared the moment when it would recede.

* * *

Over the course of the past day, Itachi had been slowly driving himself insane.

His instincts had never failed him, and at the moment, they were sending him a message that, a month and a half ago, Itachi would have wholeheartedly welcomed. Sasuke was close; he could feel it. The last stage of his plan was almost here. He could play out the final part of the façade his life had become, and then die in peace. He would redeem Sasuke. These were the only thoughts that had kept him going when things were at their most difficult.

He had thought that by now, this close to the end, he would be feeling relief.

What he _was _feeling, though, was something completely different.

It was pathetic, really. Itachi had always been selfless by nature, especially in regards to Sasuke, and this…well, though it wasn't in his nature, he'd had passing experience with the emotions of jealousy, bitterness, and anger. Which human had not?

But this was something different entirely. It was a painful re-education on what exactly those terms were. They were just words before; something to cause a momentary frown before he moved on or redirected his thoughts to something else. Now, it was something that refused to be ignored. Something that dwelled on his mind incessantly, making concentration on any one thing impossible. It was acidic and corrosive and it was eating him from the inside out.

What made it worse was that under normal circumstances, the answer to his dilemma would be almost laughably easy to come by. It killed Itachi to admit it – no pun intended – but he would have simply shelved his guilt and made his intentions toward Sakura clear, and if she wanted the same thing, the two of them could have gone on to have a proper relationship together. Or a close friendship, at least; he would be willing to wait for the former until Sakura was a few years older, and hopefully, in that time, Sasuke would learn to forgive them. Either way, they would have had years upon years to spend together.

Except that these were not normal circumstances. The thought had never caused Itachi this much quiet, repressed anguish before, but in about two and a half months, or even sooner if Sasuke tracked him down – whichever came first, one way or another, he was going to die_. _He had never before allowed himself the chance to feel sorry for himself; to mourn all that he would never get to experience. Perhaps he had never understood it fully before, but now that Sakura had become part of the picture…

Itachi's gaze flickered toward the closed bathroom door for a fraction of a second.

He knew that he could never have what he wanted – to build a deep, lasting friendship with Sakura over the span of a few years, before taking the next step together. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but he had a feeling that, if given the opportunity…they would last, and they would be good for one another.

_No, just like everything else, Sasuke's going to have what you want_, a malevolent little voice whispered to him, and he flinched.

For that reason alone, Itachi was trying to deal with desires that were more…compatible with the reality of the situation. _This _was the idea that wouldn't leave him alone; forcing the ever-present nightmares out, and replacing them with rather explicit dreams on how exactly he would go about doing this.

In polite terms, Itachi wanted to be selfish for once in his life. He wanted to take what he could get, and physically, indelibly burn every inch of himself into Sakura's memory, forever – with hands and lips and everything else, if not with the aid of his bloodline limit. Gone, but most definitely not forgotten. He wanted her, at least, to remember him as something more than Sasuke's psychopath brother; the murderer of the Uchiha clan. He wanted her to remember him by an action as simple as running her hands down her own body, for whatever reasons, or catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she got undressed for the night. And maybe it was just a little bit unhealthy, but whenever she was with Sasuke, in every sense of the term, he wanted Sakura to think of him instead.

Itachi swallowed over his suddenly dry throat, trying to stop his thoughts from going any further down that dangerous path. He lifted one hand wearily, rubbing his aching temples, before sinking back into the window seat. It would never happen, of course. _Sasuke _was always at the forefront of Sakura's mind, and it would be utterly hypocritical of him to cast judgment upon her for that.

* * *

It was a long time until Sakura felt well enough to attempt leaving the comparative shelter of the bathroom; _well _meaning that she had finally lost the urge to destroy everything around her with her bare hands. She still felt dull and somewhat despairing, but there was nothing to be done for that.

She slipped out of the door, quietly shutting it behind her. Itachi was sitting in the window seat, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, and he looked as worn out and emotionally drained as she felt.

She wasn't sure what made her think it was a good idea, but Sakura walked toward him silently, wondering if Itachi had fallen asleep. She reached out to brush a few locks of hair away from his face, but lost resolve halfway through. If this was any other day, she would have just walked away then, but now, there was no longer anything compelling her to stay away from him. She didn't give a damn that this was Sasuke's hated older brother, and even though she still didn't know the exact truth about Itachi's motivations regarding the Uchiha massacre, she trusted Itachi wholeheartedly. Unlike certain other people, he would never hurt her.

Sighing quietly, Sakura wrapped her arms around his shoulders instead, awkwardly moving closer and sliding into his lap, placing one knee on either side of him, while letting her forehead rest against the side of his neck. She felt Itachi jerk back, startled by the sudden contact, but then his arms wrapped around her reflexively, responding to her embrace by holding her close. "Are you all right?" he asked softly, and she could hear the concern in his voice. It was so refreshing to know that somebody cared.

There was no way to answer him honestly, and Sakura responded in the only way she could possibly think of, sliding closer, so that she was fully straddling his lap, and stretching upward, before gently pressing her lips to his. Itachi stilled, drawing backwards like he was going to pull away completely, and the thought filled her with a sudden, overwhelming surge of panic. She couldn't handle another rejection. Not now. She kissed him more insistently, letting her hands trace the line of his jaw, coaxing Itachi into parting his lips, and letting her tongue caress along the length of his in the way she knew that he liked.

Still, for a few moments, Itachi was tense and unresponsive, but she suddenly felt all the breath leaving his body in a long sigh, as he pulled her more fully on top of him. She gasped, startled by the sudden feeling, and then he kissed her back so hard and desperately that it took her breath away. He had positioned them so that she had the height advantage, for once, and Sakura leaned down, brushing her shaky hands against his hair and then tangling it into his long ponytail.

She knew what had changed on _her _end, but surprisingly enough, Itachi seemed to have temporarily set aside his iron-clad self-restraint as well. He was touching her more assertively than he had before; as if he thought she was in danger of vanishing into thin air at any moment, and the warmth and calluses of his palms was tangible through the thin material of her shirt; enough to make her shiver pleasurably at the sensation. Sakura involuntarily arched her entire body into his touch, a tiny sound escaping her throat as she tightened her grip around his neck, pressing the two of them even closer. This was what she had wanted. He made her feel so…wanted, desired, worthy, loved.

Itachi's hands slid down the sides of her body, then, carefully tracing the contours of her body from her neck down, and the feeling of his firm palms against her more sensitive curves made Sakura squirm a little, pushing against his wrists in a moment of indecision. He broke the kiss and eased his hands away, and the querulous expression in his dark eyes just made her feel even more confused. Before he could ask her anything, she reached out, gently taking hold of his wrist and tilting her face against his hand, so that his palm cradled her cheek. He tenderly rubbed his thumb against the sensitive skin underneath her eye, watching her carefully, as if trying to ascertain what was going on in her mind. She could see her sorrowful features reflected in his worried gaze, and Sakura winced. There was so much compassion between them that it hurt, but it suited her purposes. Itachi wanted to help her just as much as she did for him.

She would never do something as awful as pretend Itachi was Sasuke. And yes, dressed in his long-sleeved dark gray shirt and black pants, with his hair tied back in its customary ponytail and the sharp angles of his face made more pronounced by the moonlight, Itachi was fucking _hot, _but this most definitely wasn't a rebound or anything like that. She just wanted, for once, to experience the sensation of loving, and being loved in return. He could do that for her. He was the only one who could.

"Make me happy," Sakura whispered, leaning forward, so that their foreheads touched, and Itachi couldn't help but swallow nervously. "…Please."

His heart twisted unpleasantly, and for once in his life, Itachi was utterly lost for words. He could hardly believe that the kami would be cruel enough to put him in this situation. "You have no idea what you're asking for, Sakura," he responded tersely, pushing her off his lap, and the strain was making his head pound.

They were both standing now, the tension between them so thick it was almost tangible, and even though his words made her angry, Sakura could see the torment written on every inch of his face. It was only too clear what was going through Itachi's mind, and she stood on the tips of her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Remember the advice you gave me?" she breathed into his ear, fighting the urge to nip his earlobe, and she felt him shiver at her nearness. "Live life for you, Itachi. Not for anybody else."

Her words made his chest contract painfully, and it took an effort to draw his next breath. For the briefest of moments, Sasuke's hurt, betrayed face flickered beneath his eyelids, but for the first time in his life, Itachi pushed it aside. _I have given you my entire life, little brother, _he thought, and all the bitterness was gone now, leaving nothing but resigned calm. No amount of jealousy or negative feelings could negate his love for Sasuke. _Surely you won't begrudge me this one thing in return._

This time, when they kissed, it was hard and passionate, no holds barred and both of their hands going absolutely everywhere, and it tasted mutually of hunger and need and desperation. It wasn't something as trivial as lust motivating their actions, but instead a deep, burning craving for what each of them was starved for, in what the other had to offer.

Sakura pressed every inch of her body against Itachi, feeling his (too-fast) heartbeat against her own and restlessly tracing the play of the lean muscles of his chest and shoulders underneath her hands. Because the height difference was starting to make her neck hurt, she pulled away from the kiss, trailing her lips down the side of his neck and his throat instead, and she gathered her courage, before starting to properly kiss him there as well, putting all of her energy into it. It was certainly a surprisingly new feeling, but Itachi's body responded instinctively, with a muffled growl of appreciation. Without thinking, he let his hands roam her body as he lost himself in enjoyment of what she was doing, and it was only when Sakura went poker-stiff, suddenly stopping her pleasurable attentions on his neck, that he realized he had slipped his hands under the hem of her shirt, so that they pressed against the smooth skin of her bare back.

There were a few very awkward moments of silence and stillness before Sakura made the conscious effort to relax her body. She remembered thinking, a few weeks ago, how amazing she expected Itachi's hands to feel on her bare skin, and from the few moments of contact, it _did _feel nice, but still; it was the first time anybody had touched her there, and she had been tense to begin with. "You don't have to stop," she said hastily, and then cringed at how that made her sound. "Just…go slow, all right?"

Itachi nodded, before kissing her more gently than he ever had before, and she wrapped herself around him, trying to get used to the novelty of the situation. They slowly made their way to the bed, which was a little bit awkward because neither of them had let go of each other. Sakura tripped on the hem of her too-long pants, stumbling, before finally kicking them free and discarding them on the floor before Itachi sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling her down on top of him. The way he was touching her, along with what he was doing to the side of her neck, made Sakura tremble from head to toe, as she whimpered out of sheer pleasure, resting her head on his shoulder. She couldn't tell if she was getting ticklish because of his calluses and rough palms against her skin, or turned on because of what he was doing to her, and the very thought of where they could go from here. His thumbs ghosted along her ribcage, making her squirm even more, and her stomach was tying itself up in knots, even as she arched her back against him, subconsciously asking for more, because if he kept doing what he was doing, his thumbs would end up right underneath her breasts, and—

She moaned softly, unconsciously pushing her hips forward, and she felt Itachi stiffen up…in more ways than one. He inhaled sharply at the same instant she did, ceasing nibbling on the sensitive spot behind her right ear, and experimentally, Sakura ground her hips against his lap again, fascinated by the effect it had on him, and she enjoyed it as well – the feeling, and the sense of inexplicable excitement beginning to cloud her mind, was a world better than any of the…experimentation she had done on her own. Itachi was taking deep, slow breaths as well, obviously trying to control himself, as he slowly stroked his thumbs along the undersides of her bare breasts, and Sakura had to bite her lip to keep from gasping, screwing her eyes shut as a rush of unmistakable anticipation flooded over her.

It was so easy to pretend, with him – that this gentle, caring person was someone who she could be in a relationship with, whom she could easily fall in love with and have her love and affection and consideration returned wholeheartedly. And some part of her mind was panicking, because she knew where this was going, but…but…

The would-be rational protests of her mind fell flat. There were a million (probably _several _million) worse people she could lose her virginity to than Itachi. And, well, the whole thing about sex was that…if Itachi had never come into the picture, or if she had refused to let their relationship progress to this stage, she would have had sex with Sasuke whenever _he _decided that _he _wanted it. No questions asked; regardless of whether she was "ready" or not – she was that desperate to please him.

Instead, it was her decision to do this with Itachi. Completely, totally, _her _decision, and that made all the difference. Besides, Sakura trusted him wholeheartedly, and she knew that he would treat her with the respect and consideration that she deserved. And, as much as it made her feel a little bit embarrassed to admit it, she felt that between the two of them…it would be as close to love (given and received) as either of them had ever experienced. And, more than anything else, she wanted to experience that. She wanted proof that, even if Sasuke didn't, _somebody _could think that she was worthy of love and affection.

A little bit self-consciously, Sakura pulled her shirt over her head, Itachi's eyes following each movement hungrily, before discarding it on the floor. It left her only in the ridiculous pair of purple panties that Itachi had bought for her so long ago, and in contrast to the intimate nature of the exposure, she felt her body tense up immediately.

Itachi blinked several times, feeling more than a little stunned, and this was an _awful _time to be struck with indecision, but he just wasn't sure what to…do. It would be impolite to stare for much longer, even though he most certainly didn't want to look away, but he didn't just want to reach out and _grab _them, and at the same time, he was wondering if it would be appropriate to say something. And even if it was, what on earth could he say without coming across as a complete…well…hormone-crazed, sex-starved degenerate?

Sakura fidgeted somewhat, fighting the urge to cross her arms over her chest self-consciously, even as she noted how Itachi's eyes were darkening in an unmistakable display of approval and appreciation. Just the weight of his gaze slowly caressing her almost-naked body was making her feel all tingly with what had to be arousal, and the thought of how she would feel when he actually touched her was both a cause for anticipation and apprehension.

Itachi placed his hands a little above her hips, then, drawing her close for a slow, sensual kiss, his tongue twining against hers, and Sakura moaned fretfully as she slowly arched her chest against his; the friction of the material of his shirt against her bare skin was almost too much to bear. Still, Itachi took his time acquainting his hands with every inch of her back, her sides, her hipbones, and her stomach, thoroughly kissing her neck and collarbones, while Sakura hazily wondered whether it was possible for him to get her off by just touching her like this.

When he drew back slightly, she knew what was coming, but still, the slow, gentle pressure of his hands curving over her breasts made all the breath leave her body, as she slowly let her head fall forward, resting on his shoulder. Considering how much time she'd spent over the years hating this particular part of her body, Sakura couldn't have imagined that this would feel so good. Itachi's hands were pleasantly warm, and his touch made her tremble with pleasurable awareness. Some part of her mind noted that, surprisingly enough considering his looks, Itachi must have been as inexperienced as she was; his uncertainty, as he brushed his fingertips over the tops of her breasts, and then tentatively traced his rough thumbs around the peaks, was painfully evident.

Itachi touched her and kissed her everywhere, his mouth never staying in one place for long as he eased her back onto the bed, and his hands and grip were alternately rough and gentle. Sakura clung to him, responding in kind. She could sense that he was desperate for something only she could give him, and it definitely wasn't just the physical act of sex. Her heart went out to him, and she put everything she had, trying to convey all of the passion and love she possessed into every single kiss, cupping his face between her hands gently. The past day had made her realize that there was no way she could delude herself into believing otherwise – regardless of the consequences, she cared about Itachi truly, and so deeply that her growing attachment to him frightened her. And she wanted _him _to know that, too.

This time, when they broke apart after a particularly long, heated kiss, they were both lying side-by-side, their bodies tangled together. Sakura's eyes were closed, her lashes fluttering as Itachi trailed his fingers all over her body, caressing the curve of her waist. She could feel the warmth and affection in his eyes as he looked at her, as well as how incredibly aroused he was (absentmindedly, the pink-haired kunoichi wondered whether it would even be possible to get his pants off, at this point), and both made her heart hammer, but before they could go any further, she tugged on his shirt insistently. She felt too uncomfortably…exposed…already, and it didn't help that he was still fully dressed, while she was pretty much naked. It took a moment for him to ascertain her meaning, but then a tiny half-smile touched the corner of his lips, before Itachi sat up, pulling his shirt off in one smooth movement. "Better?" he asked quietly.

Sakura couldn't help but smile back, sitting up on her knees and wrapping her arms around him in response. Itachi held her close in turn, even when his skin began to race with tremors, in response to the way she was slowly kissing her way down his neck, collarbone, and leanly muscled chest, stopping right over his heart. It was such a poignant move that it made his heart twist, beating so fast that it made him feel lightheaded, but Itachi forced himself to ignore it. This was not the time to think about that. He wasn't terminally ill, living on borrowed time. He wasn't living vicariously for the first, last, and only time in his life. He wasn't dying. He was just a normal person who had all the time in the world to spend with the girl he loved.

The two of them took their time stripping each other's remaining clothes off without any particular sense of haste, and as Sakura settled herself on her back, threading her fingers into Itachi's hair and kissing him back as he carefully positioned himself above her, she cursed her tendency to get nauseous when excessively nervous. It wasn't like she wasn't turned on, or anything – no, she was actually getting a little impatient with just moving against each other, and she was so unmistakably aroused that she hadn't even thought it was humanly possible; she wanted him so much that it made her ache, but…still. There was something _safe _about going as far as it was possible to go without actual penetration, and, well, it wasn't a crime to be nervous about the actual act or anything…

_Still, _Inner Sakura surfaced enough to comment slyly, _Itachi practically looks like he's in pain. You should put him out of his misery, Sakura-chan. _

Sakura reached up, rubbing her hands against his tense shoulders, and swallowing over her dry throat. Her emotions were running dangerously close to the surface, and she sighed his name as she felt him settling against her. Uncertainly, she arched her hips upward, wondering if she had got the angle right and whether it would work properly. "Itachi…"

She felt him tentatively align himself against her, but inexplicably enough, Itachi didn't, well, go the rest of the way. Instead, his dark eyes snapped open as he drew back slightly, and Sakura was startled to see how irrationally panicked he looked all of a sudden. "Condom," he managed, all the years of Kisame's snide jokes while reading Icha Icha Paradise – _when you finally decide to do it, remember, Itachi: no glove, no love! – _suddenly catching up with him.

…_What did he just call us? _Inner Sakura barked militantly.

It took a few seconds for her to actually understand what he'd said, and Sakura sighed again, her nerves vanishing momentarily, only to be replaced by exasperation. "I've got it covered," she replied, tangling her fingers into his ponytail and pulling him closer.

It took a few moments for Itachi to get his thoughts straight and gather himself properly, and taking note of the look of shy encouragement in her eyes, as well a deep, calming breath, he took her in one slow movement, resting his forehead on Sakura's perfectly-shaped collarbones.

It felt indescribably perfect at first, but it took Itachi all of one second to realize that he had made a serious misjudgment in ignoring all of the symptoms he had experienced in the past half hour. All the breath left his body in one sharp gasp, and he couldn't seem to breathe in properly again. He remembered that every medic-nin he had ever seen had warned him about the dangers of overexertion and overstimulation (and Sakura certainly was a very stimulating individual), regarding his heart condition. His heart was beating too fast, making his vision blur at the edges and begin to go black, and the exertion and overstimulation was too much; the chakra shield felt like it was in danger of imploding into itself. He needed to cough. _Badly. _His lungs and throat felt like they were tearing themselves apart, and to make matters worse, he had the sinking feeling that, because of the above reasons, and of how new this all was, he was going to last approximately five more seconds.

And that was when his train of thought was interrupted by Sakura jackknifing up against him, pushing against his chest hard, and making a sound that was unmistakably pained and distressed.

Itachi fought the urge to swear, his heart skipping several beats, and he acted instinctively, holding her close and abruptly shifting positions, so that both of them were lying on their sides, facing one another. Sakura had a bruising grip on his shoulders, and her face turned against his neck, and her breath was coming uncommonly fast, her eyes shut tightly. Itachi stroked her hair gently, taking shallow breaths and being careful to stay as still as possible, and at last, she opened her eyes. They were still a little clouded with pain, but she gave him an apologetic look nevertheless. "Sorry," she breathed unsteadily. The pain and pressure was a lot better when they were like this, enough for her to begin feeling the faintest stirrings of pleasure at the feeling of him inside her. "I guess it would have passed once I got used to it, but…sorry. I overreacted."

"There is no need to apologize," Itachi replied, trying to control his heart rate in some way, and then he hesitated visibly, touching her flushed cheek. He felt remorseful; he hadn't known that he could hurt her in the process. "…Do you wish to stop?"

"No," Sakura responded quickly, shifting against him experimentally and trying to get used to the new position. Her movements sent shivers of pleasure through her whole body, and made Itachi close his eyes and hiss quietly.

"We can stay like this, if you want," he spoke, after a few moments. Although he sincerely wanted her to be comfortable and get the most enjoyment out of the experience, the offer wasn't entirely altruistic; the changed angle would help him reduce the strain on his body considerably. His heart rate was already beginning to slow, and Itachi could tell that he was no longer in danger of passing out – or the infinitely worse alternative.

Sakura's only response was to slowly grind her hips against his, lifting her head to kiss the line of his jaw tentatively.

It took several minutes for them to discover a rhythm that was easy to sustain and pleasurable for both of them, and Itachi was surprised by how much the whole process initially felt like an exercise in careful tactics and concentration. It was almost stressful, and he wondered whether he was over-thinking things, but after what felt like an agonizingly long time, when Sakura finally moaned his name in obvious bliss, letting her eyes slip shut as she raked her short fingernails against his back, that was more than enough of a reward.

He kissed her wherever he could reach; from her shoulders down to her collarbone, earning pleased little whimpers as she threaded her fingers through his hair and held him close to her skin, and Itachi soon found that by focusing intently on _her_, he found it easier to hold it together. It was a little strange, really. He didn't know what he had expected, but he knew that it certainly wasn't pressing his forehead against Sakura's almost painfully, as their impassioned gasps intermingled, while Sakura wrapped herself around him, sounding like she was just beginning to experience utter ecstasy, and he was expending every fiber of his being thinking, _not yet, not yet, _please _not yet. _

Itachi supposed it got easier with practice, as he caressed one of Sakura's slender, toned thighs, before lifting it up higher around his hips, triggering a gasp from her – but he couldn't imagine that they would have another chance to do this.

He forced the thought away, focusing on returning the kiss she pressed against his lips. Distantly, Sakura realized she had begun to tremble uncontrollably, white-hot stabs of pleasure lancing through her entire body as Itachi continued what he had been doing. She supposed she knew where this was going, but it was surprising; she had been more focused on how this made her feel emotionally rather than physically, and didn't think it would actually _happen. _Another gasp fighting its way free of her throat, Sakura arched against Itachi almost violently, pressing herself as close to him as humanly possible, and from the way he had winced suddenly, she had the feeling that she had just badly bruised his shoulders with her grip. Still, she held him to her, needing to feel more, and before fully realizing what she was doing, fascinated by the way his entire body had tensed up, Sakura turned over, collapsing onto her back and pulling Itachi on top of her. The sharp change in angle was exactly what she needed, and her voice was raw from saying his name over and over again, when it happened; washing over her as hard as a tidal wave slamming into rocks.

For once in her life, Sakura stopped thinking, closing her eyes and losing herself to the sensations flooding around her, making her throat close over and her chest tighten, while above her, Itachi lost control as well, biting down on the edge of her neck to stifle the sounds he was making. She held him tight, gasping for breath, and finally, his grip on her relaxed a little bit. They were both equally winded, overwhelmed by what had just happened, and they stayed joined together for a little while, before she somewhat awkwardly untangled her legs from his as the two of them pulled apart.

She had been tired to begin with; physically and emotionally exhausted to the bone, and now Sakura felt like that had been multiplied a thousand times over. The entire day had been such a drastic emotional rollercoaster that she could hardly handle it anymore, and she leaned toward Itachi, instinctively reaching out to him and resting her head against his chest, feeling herself tremble with the strength of the emotions that were flooding through her.

It made Sakura feel a little bit self-centered to think it, but she had definitely got what she wanted out of the whole experience. She had never experienced mutual affection and caring like that before; never felt such an incredible degree of closeness to anybody, and the way Itachi had so considerately put her needs ahead of his own…it had felt so novel and unexpected. She loved every minute of it, and she loved the way he treated her. It was enough to take her breath away.

Itachi stroked her hair with slightly shaking hands, ignoring his unsteady heartbeat. This was what he had always wanted with Katsumi, but because of the massacre…had never got a chance to experience. The soft, unquestioning trust with which Sakura curled up against him was enough to make his chest tighten with unmistakable guilt, though. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her in return, kiss her forehead a few times, and fall asleep like this, but…

Then, what would happen tomorrow morning, when chances were good that Sasuke would find them?

Rationally, logically, Itachi knew that he shouldn't be encouraging Sakura's growing feelings for him…and his for her. He was only hurting himself, and hurting Sakura even more so, in pretending that they were involved with one another, and deluding themselves that this was just another normal step forward in a fledgling relationship.

After all, _she _would be the one to suffer most when he died at Sasuke's hands. He knew that losing a loved one was one of the most painful experiences anybody could ever live through, and Itachi did not wish that for her.

And, a more sobering thought in itself – considering Sakura's nature, he wouldn't put it past her to attempt to interfere with his battle with Sasuke in some way; if she thought that somebody that she cared about was at stake…that person _not _being Sasuke.

Itachi closed his eyes, momentarily pained at the very thought of how Sasuke would react to such a thing. His rage would be frightening to behold, and from all that he had seen and heard, his younger brother sorely lacked control. An attack with the Chidori would be the worst-case scenario, and the slightly better alternative was that Sasuke would spend the entirety of the rest of his life convinced that Sakura was dead to him. And, no matter how much she believed otherwise, Itachi knew that would hurt her.

It wasn't wise for Sakura to form an attachment to him. Regardless of how much _he _wanted it, one way or another, it would be harmful to her.

Sakura blinked, startled out of her warm, contented daze, as Itachi slowly released her and then turned away, curling into himself somewhat, so that his back faced her instead.

It took a moment for her to realize what had just happened, and Sakura reached out uncertainly, pressing one small hand against his lean, scarred back.

It took a concerted effort to ignore the plaintive gesture; the silent plea for him to turn back and hold her again, but Itachi forced himself to remain still. After a while, Sakura withdrew slowly, averting her gaze and biting her lip hard, before drawing her arms back to herself protectively.

They lay like that, in tense, uncomfortable silence, for a long time. It felt impossible that, a little while ago, she had felt like the most content, loved person in the entire world. This was why she had wanted to do it with Itachi, and not wait for Sasuke – Sasuke was the one who would have turned away from her after he had got what he wanted, making her feel like a used, now useless, broken toy. Itachi wasn't supposed to have been like that. This was all becoming horribly wrong.

Sakura badly wanted to slide out of bed, relocate her multiple articles of clothing from wherever they had been scattered to, and get dressed again, but she couldn't seem to find the physical energy or initiative. Regardless of the fact that her throat and chest were tight and her eyes were stinging, she couldn't do it anymore. The contrast between what _had _been and what they were now only made her feel more excruciatingly lonely, and Sakura couldn't imagine what had suddenly changed between them. She couldn't kill herself trying to figure out Itachi's thoughts and motivations any longer. She was just so tired, physically and emotionally. _Definitely _emotionally.

Momentarily forgetting her pride, Sakura leaned forward, pressing herself against Itachi's back and burying her face between his shoulder blades. The position brought her only a meager amount of comfort, but it was better than nothing.

Itachi refused to move a muscle until he felt Sakura's grip on him loosen, and the rhythm of her breathing become deep and even. Sighing quietly, he turned, anchoring one arm around her waist and pressing his lips against her forehead regretfully, and it took him a long, long time to fall asleep.

* * *

Sakura woke up when she felt Itachi slowly easing himself away from the embrace they had fallen into during the night, before carefully slipping out of the bed. She kept her eyes closed; her face shielded mostly by her hair, and it took an effort not to shiver when she felt him gently drawing the blankets around her.

The pink-haired kunoichi only opened her eyes when she heard the shower running in the bathroom, and she gave a slight, quiet sigh, burying her face in the pillow, and shifting her body against the blankets and sheets uncomfortably. Outwardly, she was the picture of disheartened exhaustion – and she certainly _felt _both of those emotions, regardless of the fact that she had been sleeping for around ten hours – but inwardly, the beginnings of a plan were starting to take root in her mind. It depended on some very specific conditions, though, and she closed her eyes again, deep in thought.

Meanwhile, Itachi came to the unpleasant realization that he could not concentrate on anything more strenuous than the basic movements required in finishing dressing and running his simple black comb through his damp hair, as he stared at his reflection blankly. His vision had worsened to the degree that he couldn't see anything clearly unless he was nose-to-nose with it, and there were light tremors running through his hands from the effort – it got more taxing every day, which he supposed was good news – it took to maintain the chakra barrier…but those weren't the issues that were weighing on his mind so heavily.

It was guilt, of the sort he hadn't experienced since last seeing Sasuke. Being selfish for once had seemed like a wonderful idea last night, but now that he was thinking more clearly…it was enough to make him wince. As extraordinarily difficult as it would be, Itachi still had the self-control to put the entire experience behind him, move on, and continue to the end without any deviation from his plan. He doubted that Sakura could do the same, and more than that, he flinched at the very thought of the effect his rejection last night must have had on her.

The chakra barrier wavered dangerously, and he coughed once; harsh and dry and painful against his already-sore throat. His attention momentarily diverted, Itachi glanced toward the closed bathroom door. His supplies of medication were running dangerously low, and even though he had the feeling that Sasuke was close by, it was too large of a chance to take. He would be damned if he got careless and dropped dead one day before his younger brother found him. He knew that there was a large, quite sophisticated clinic across town, and that would likely have the medicine that he needed.

Itachi slipped through the door in near silence, walking across the room in order to stand in front of Sakura, whose face appeared to be buried in her pillow and hidden mostly by her hair. She couldn't come with him, for obvious reasons, but he did not wish for her to wake up and find herself alone. Perhaps he could wait for her to get dressed, so that while he was at the clinic, she could have a chance to get out of this small room and explore a little.

Making up his mind, he reached down, gently brushing the soft, tangled locks of pink hair aside, in an attempt to get her attention, and his touch accidentally drifted down to her forehead. "Sakura?"

She stirred for a few moments, before looking up at him with sleep-clouded eyes. "…Yeah?"

"I was going to go out to run some errands," Itachi said quietly, belatedly remembering to pull his hand back to himself. "Would you like to…?"

"No, thank you," Sakura interrupted wearily, closing her eyes again and pulling the blankets closer around herself. "I don't feel very well."

Those words were all it took for his resolve to crumble, and Itachi sat down by her side without even thinking about it, pressing one hand against her pale cheekbone worriedly. Yet another reason to feel guilty – she _had _been sick yesterday, after all, and he should have just let her rest. "I can stay here," he decided firmly.

"No, no," Sakura replied, a little too hastily and forcefully for her liking, her eyes snapping open, but she caught herself, reaching out and touching Itachi's hand gently. "It's okay. I'm fine. You go and run your errands; I just need a little bit more sleep."

Itachi stayed still, looking somewhat unconvinced, and Sakura faked her best yawn, turning to the side and letting her eyes drift shut again. She felt him sigh and rise slowly, and then touch her forehead again. "Do you need me to bring back anything?"

"Maybe some food, in a couple of hours," Sakura replied vaguely, with the tone of someone an inch away from succumbing to deep sleep. "Take your time…"

Through her eyelashes, and the cover provided by her hair, Sakura saw Itachi direct an indecisive look at his discarded Akatsuki cloak, which hung over the back of the chair on the far side of the room. She could practically read the thoughts flitting across his face – it was just too conspicuous, especially in a town probably teeming with bands of Lightning shinobi on their way to or from missions. She waited with bated breath until he turned his back on it and walked away, out of her line of sight, and after a few moments, she heard the sound of the door shutting and locking.

Sakura closed her eyes and counted to ten, feeling her heart beat so fast it threatened to implode, and when there was no sign of Itachi returning, she threw the covers off and lunged out of the bed, intending to dash to the bathroom.

…Bad move. She hadn't understood the full impact of the stiffness while she had been lying in bed, and that made her almost fall over. From there on, she limped to the bathroom, but like every injured shinobi who was worth their salt, it was a very fast limp.

As Sakura showered quickly but thoroughly, healing the few marks that had been left on her neck and hips, there was no time to reflect on any of the thoughts that had plagued her mind as she lay in bed, afterwards, last night. All of that conflict was gone; replaced only by a detached, driven professionalism. She toweled herself off and dressed as fast as she could, and strode out of the bathroom without even one look in the mirror, with one hand already in the shallow right pocket of her jeans.

From that, Sakura pulled out a crumpled piece of memo paper with a sequence of words on it, and with an expression of grim purpose on her face, she yanked Itachi's Akatsuki cloak off the chair, settling it on the ground, before sitting in front of it. Her actions, as she matter-of-factly rifled through the numerous inner pockets, gave her the briefest pang of compunction, because Itachi obviously trusted her enough to leave her alone with it, and she could tell that he wasn't a man who trusted easily – but that vanished soon enough. She was going to find out the truth, even if she had to completely abandon all sense of ethics and decency.

Her fingers curled around what she was looking for, in one of the last pockets, and Sakura pulled the unique large-capacity summoning scroll out of it, looking down at the object apprehensively. From what she had ascertained during one casual conversation about the necessity of traveling light, this single thing contained all of Itachi's possessions. The sleeping rolls that they used when they had to spend the night outside; the numerous bottles of pills that she had caught glimpses of him taking in the middle of the night, when he broke out in violent coughing fits and thought that she was asleep…and kami knew what else. It was a large-capacity scroll, and Itachi's belongings probably held some sort of clue as to whatever he was hiding. It was a stretch, yes, but short of actually disabling and interrogating him, it was her only hope.

She had been observing him use the scroll every day for weeks. He used a complex set of ten hand seals to unlock it, but, well…it was _Itachi, _and he was very fast, especially with any sort of hand movements. He could do ten hand seals in two blinks of an eye.

Sakura spread her crumpled piece of paper out next to the scroll, eyeing it warily. For the past several weeks, she had watched him intently, and every few days, she could pick out one of the ten through the blur of movement – and had immediately taken the opportunity to note it down. It had been incredibly difficult, making her eyes water and her head ache, but she finally had nine of the ten. The last one; she would just have to guess by using a process of elimination. She squinted at the paper, and then brought her hands together to form the seals, feeling a slight shiver run through the length of her spine.

_Dog. Dog. Tiger. Serpent. Dragon. Ram. Hare. Ram. Tiger. _

…Nine.

Sakura frowned, bringing her hands together again, slowly. …_Monkey? _

Nothing. She repeated the process several more times, trying _boar _and _horse _next, and nothing happened, but when she tried the dragon seal, the scroll snapped open.

There was only time for a moment of triumph before she started searching, quickly and clinically removing things from the scroll and tossing the irrelevant objects aside. Two sleeping rolls – and more importantly, several clear bottles of small, unmarked pills. Sakura blinked, momentarily stunned. There were more than she had expected, and she lifted a couple of bottles close to her eyes, inspecting them carefully. She couldn't tell them apart, and there was no way to even tell what drugs they were. Initially, when she had first saw Itachi taking them from a distance, she'd assumed that they were used to treat tuberculosis – in the little clinic in Sound's border town, that was the most common respiratory disease that was treatable by medication. But these looked nothing like those pills, and now…she wasn't so sure.

Her brow furrowed with thought, and it took a considerable effort for Sakura to set those aside. She only had a limited amount of time, and she didn't want to think about how Itachi would react if he came back to find her searching through his stuff. Impatiently, she upended the scroll, watching the litter of things that fell out.

The first thing that struck her was that there were no weapons. No weapons _at all, _which was downright unnatural for any shinobi, not to mention for an Akatsuki member. There were lots of books, strangely enough, but more than that…there were lots and _lots _of paper, rolled up and secured with rubber bands; enough to make her offhandedly wonder if Itachi was writing his memoirs or trying to become a novelist or something.

Despite the flippant thought, Sakura's expression was one of utmost seriousness as she turned to the nearest roll of papers, pulling the rubber band free and flinging it aside as she unrolled the thick stack, scattering each paper out and spreading them on the ground.

They looked random at first, but then her eyes lit on what each had in common – the painfully familiar insignia of Konoha, emblazoned at the top of each scroll. Underneath those, there were dates, large and in bold print: the months ranging from August to the end of October, and the year…all of them were dated from seven years ago.

Sakura's eyes widened with comprehension as she rapidly scanned each scroll, starting from August. It was obvious: they were mission records; records of every mission assigned between August to the end of October, seven years ago. This was all highly classified information from the archives in Hokage Tower, which supposedly held copies of every mission ever assigned to every shinobi in the history of Konoha. Once, a long time ago while waiting for the Third Hokage to assign Team Seven a mission, she'd heard one of his assistants complaining about the archives' horrible organization system, and how hard it was to re-organize it.

There was only one logical conclusion she could arrive at. Itachi must have stolen these mission records from the archives, presumably before he had left Konoha as a missing-nin. But…why? Why was it so important that he remove every trace of these records from the village? What was it that he wanted to hide?

Regardless of the fact that she was beginning to break out in a cold sweat, Sakura rifled through each scroll, starting from August and studying them intently. She had the feeling that she had all the puzzle pieces right there in her hands – she just needed to put it together.

All of these records were from seven years ago – when Itachi left the village, at age thirteen. After killing his entire family, for reasons unknown.

_But why steal the records_? Inner Sakura asked furiously.

The thought occurred to her in an instant, and one of the scrolls slipped out of Sakura's hand, resulting in a thin paper cut, but she barely felt it.

…What month had the massacre occurred? She had only a faint memory of it – that was when her father had still been alive; still an active-duty ANBU member, and she had only the vaguest memory of him whispering the news to her horrified-looking mother, one evening before dinner. He had fallen silent as soon as she entered the room.

The evening had been quiet and unusually cool. She'd worn her pink sweater for the first time in months. Distantly, Sakura remembered that before she had come in for dinner, she had been playing outside with Ino, stomping in piles of fallen leaves—

Sakura threw the August and September scrolls aside.

October. October first, second, third, fourth…she flipped through them impatiently, rapidly scanning the names on the records. Kakashi Hatake, S-rank; October seventh. Anko Mitarashi, B-rank: October ninth. Ibiki Morino, A-rank; October tenth. Kurenai Yuhi, A-rank; October eleventh.

Her hands finally stilled, as she stared down at the last scroll.

Itachi Uchiha, S-rank; October twelfth.

Part of her already knew what she was going to see on the mission parameters, neatly delineated under the date.

There were several paragraphs, but only a few words and phrases jumped out at her.

_Double agent. _

_Quell the rebellion._

Sakura swallowed over her dry throat compulsively, not believing what she was reading. To see it, written out so coldly and heartlessly in blank ink, with small, precise letters.

_Exterminate the Uchiha clan._

She dropped the scroll as if it had burned her fingers, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, before resting her forehead on her knees. Belatedly, Sakura realized that she was breathing a little too fast, and her thought process had slowed down to about the speed of molasses.

It took several minutes for her to recover, and finally, Sakura forced herself to stand up, brushing her hair out of her face, rolling the scroll up tightly, before sticking it in her pocket. She made her way to the window as if on autopilot, pressing her fingers against the glass, and slowly looking westward, stiffening her resolve. Damn the consequences.

She had to tell Sasuke.

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

Happy New Year's, everybody! I hope that each and every one of you has an absolutely wonderful 2010, filled with happiness, healthiness, and joy.

As always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated – I love hearing what you guys have to say. :)


	12. Crash

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was considerate enough to leave a review. :)_

_Chapter Twelve: Crash_

* * *

Sakura paced around the room for a few minutes, trying desperately to gather her thoughts. There could be no waiting; none. Time was of the essence here, and even though it was an unsavory idea that sent a shiver of trepidation down her spine…it was the only way. She had to find Sasuke, now, and tell him the truth, face-to-face. She had Itachi's mission scroll as proof, and that made things absolutely inarguable. He would have no choice but to believe her – she wasn't coming to him with a _feeling_ or _suspicion, _as she had experienced before regarding Itachi's true nature, but incontrovertible evidence.

The pink-haired kunoichi directed a quick, nervous glance at the digital clock on the bedside table. She didn't have much time, and even though the temptation to just leave all of Itachi's possessions scattered on the floor, with his empty summoning scroll thrown in a corner, was great – she couldn't do it. If he came back and saw this mess, he'd figure it out, and he would probably track her down in a heartbeat and stop her from getting far.

Biting her lip, Sakura returned to the floor again, hastily and messily depositing all of Itachi's books and papers into the summoning scroll, before sealing it with a snap. Her thoughts a million miles away, she stuffed the scroll into the first pocket she felt inside the Akatsuki cloak, and then threw the cloak over the chair. In the next movement, she pulled out her radio piece, flipping open components and pressing buttons rapidly until the radar popped up, and she took the image in at a glance.

It looked like Sasuke and the others had fallen for it – from the positioning of their coordinates, they were probably in the forest outside of the opposite town. It was a little surprising, to be honest; one look out the window revealed that it was a few hours past sunrise, and she would have expected them to have figured it out and be heading straight in this direction right now.

A slight frown curved her lips as she prepared her belongings, sliding her own genjutsu-transfigured summoning scroll into her pocket. Of course Sasuke would have kept the others up continuously for the past two days; first, as they almost found her and Itachi's campsite in the woods, and last night, as they probably scoured the opposite town and its surroundings thoroughly. He would have had to allow them to get some rest by now.

Sakura left the room quickly, locking the door behind her and not looking back. She kept her head down (not that it helped too much – in the crowd of normal hair colors, she stood out like a sore thumb) as she weaved through the crowded streets, heading straight out of the town; only stopping to buy a few substantial protein bars from a convenience store, as a makeshift breakfast. She could only hope that whatever errands Itachi had to run took him in the opposite direction from where she was.

The pink-haired kunoichi only relaxed fractionally after the first fifteen minutes, once she had made her way back into the forest again. She broke out into a chakra-enhanced sprint immediately, her mind whirring as she ran.

She didn't need Itachi to explain it to her – from what she had read of the mission scroll, it was all too clear. Sakura was exceedingly familiar with Konoha's history; she had always found it interesting, and when she had been younger, she had even done an extra-credit assignment about the details of Konoha's founding, in order to make up for a poor score in a sparring match. She'd read the most dusty, obscure ("practically untouched!" the ancient librarian proclaimed) volumes detailing the feud and long-standing dissent between the Senju and the Uchiha clan…how some of the Uchiha felt that they were supposed to be the true rulers of Konoha, and that they were cheated, oppressed, and forced into complete subservience by the Senju.

The text and dates of Itachi's mission scroll picked up where the history books left off. Sakura's best estimation was that, when Itachi was twelve or thirteen, in the months or year before the massacre, the Uchiha had finally had enough. The elders would have planned it; as the head of the clan, Itachi and Sasuke's own father would have been intimately involved as well. They must have plotted to overthrow the leadership of the village in some kind of coup, and as Itachi was in ANBU, they must have seen him as being in the perfect position to spy on the Hokage and his administration…perhaps even take advantage of his own trusted position to perform a few key assassinations, as well.

Sakura bit her lip hard, feeling herself shiver as she remembered Itachi's cryptic quote to her, that long-ago evening in the cave. _From the beginning to the end, I did what I thought was right._

It had made no sense then, but now, it was becoming all too painfully clear.

The little clues as to Itachi's true nature were all adding up in her head, resulting in something wilder than Sakura had ever imagined. The way he had always treated her with gentleness and respect, even when she had every reason to be deathly afraid of him, and the fact that even when he played the role of the cold, detached psychopath, it wasn't quite right…enough for her subconscious to pick up on the flaws. Even when they had fought that one time, Itachi had always acted in defense rather than offense, and when he had hurt her, he had apologized later, in his own way. He was strangely averse to violence of any sort, as evidenced further by his total refusal to kill that Lightning shinobi, and the fact that he didn't carry any weapons whatsoever. Not to mention that he didn't wield the Sharingan like a maniac, either – as a matter of fact, Sakura was beginning to suspect that if she put all of the people who had ever fallen "victim" to Itachi's bloodline limit in a room and then interrogated them, she would find that he was more prone to use sleeping genjutsu than horrible illusions of torture.

Her deepest instincts and suspicions about Itachi were right. He wasn't a bad person at all – perhaps even the complete opposite of his cultivated persona as the most psychopathic and depraved member of the Akatsuki. It was enough to turn her stomach, and Sakura forced the thoughts away, feeling her chest tighten. If she allowed herself to think about it any further; about the dark, twisted depths he had been forced to sink to under Konoha's orders…she would be sick.

Itachi wasn't an idiot. He would have known that a coup like what the Uchiha clan was planning would result in the loss of a huge amount of lives. From what she approximated of his personality, he would have found the idea entirely morally reprehensible.

_I did what I thought was right._

He would have informed the Hokage. From there, as the scroll had quoted – following the village's orders, he would have begun to spy on the activities of his own clan.

…_double agent…_

Sakura swallowed compulsively, the cold, emotionless words from the mission records pervading her mind again.

The rest was history. Simple deduction, really. When the clan showed no sign of abandoning their plans and continuing in subservience to Konoha; when they were probably just about ready to move forward and execute the coup, the Hokage and his council must have ordered Itachi, their double agent, to…kill them. To murder his entire family in cold blood in order to quell the rebellion, and take the blame for it, before exiling himself from Konoha.

Sakura closed her eyes, pained, and now feeling even more nauseous than she had a few minutes ago. She hadn't realized it before, but her mind was now filling in the blanks.

It was horrid. It made her shudder just to think about it. But, following their original line of reasoning…the village wouldn't have wanted to spare Sasuke, either. Why should they? As far as they were concerned, the Uchiha bloodline was irredeemably tainted, and Konoha would have been better off with every single one of them dead. By their reasoning, even the innocent five-year-old Sasuke would have been corrupted, solely by virtue of who his family was. They would have ordered Itachi to kill Sasuke as well. To make it a clean break.

Which meant that Itachi had clearly disobeyed the village's orders in order to spare his own younger brother's life.

Sakura felt herself slowing down against her will, before coming to a stop, standing in the middle of the cold forest, and soaked up to the middle of her shins in sleet. Her stomach heaved, rebelling against the vanilla-flavored protein bar she had eaten a few miles ago, and it took a concerted effort to keep it down. The information that Itachi had been ordered to murder his own family in order to quell a problem that could have been solved by some intensive diplomacy was just the tip of the iceberg. The implications of _that _were sickening and horrifying enough, but the realization of everything Itachi had done by saving Sasuke was just as disturbing.

Sakura forced herself to quicken her pace again, keeping her gaze fixed straight ahead and utterly focused, even though her mind was still reeling. Surely she was an awful person for thinking this, but it was undeniable – it would have been comparatively easier for Itachi to just kill Sasuke and make it a clean break. If Itachi had done that and subsequently vanished from Konoha…he could have gone far, far away from the Fire Country, perhaps even faked his own death, and established some kind of decent, peaceful life for himself.

She winced, and not from the razor-sharp wind that was tearing away at every inch of her exposed skin as she flitted through the treetops at rapid speeds. It would have been the easier thing to do. As disturbing as it was to imagine herself in Itachi's nightmarish situation, it was probably what she would have done…what the vast majority of people would have done.

_If you could live with that kind of guilt, _Inner Sakura told her, sounding unusually subdued.

A thought suddenly occurred to her, and Sakura frowned again, confused. From what she knew of Itachi's personality; from the melancholy that she could practically feel radiating off him in their quieter moments…she had no doubt that, even so many years later, he was plagued by guilt; understandably so. It was surprising that he hadn't—

The thought made her flinch, but honestly, it _was_ surprising that Itachi hadn't just committed suicide after the Uchiha massacre. She had the feeling that, for him, it would have been the easier course of action, but fleetingly, Sakura considered Sasuke – his personality, his nature. As hard as it was to comprehend such a thing, he would have been even worse; even more intensely bitter and angry, if he had grown up knowing that he would never even have the chance to get revenge on his family's killer and avenge their deaths. It hurt to even think about it, but Sakura doubted that Sasuke would even have the strength or desire to continue living, without the motivation to grow up and become strong enough to kill his brother. There were times when Sasuke could barely cope as it was. If he had never been given somebody to take revenge on; something to strive towards… the rage and hopelessness and despair would have taken its toll on him, and eaten him from the inside out.

The image of a bottle of sake and a bottle of sleeping pills flickered beneath her eyelids. It would have been that; rather than giving himself over to Orochimaru's possession technique.

Her foot slipped on a branch, causing her to stumble and twist her ankle painfully. It took her a moment to realize that her vision had blurred over, and Sakura blinked the tears away impatiently, ignoring the twisting knot forming in her stomach. Itachi was more damn unselfish; more noble and self-sacrificing than she could have imagined that it was possible for _anybody _to be. And it fucking _killed _her to even think about the injustice that had been forced on both Uchiha brothers. If she could get her hands on the people who were cold-blooded and ruthless and heartless enough to order this kind of atrocity, she would have been glad to literally rip them limb from limb.

Itachi and Sasuke and the Uchiha clan weren't just chess pieces on some board. They were living, breathing people, whose lives had been destroyed by one order. It was a mess. A revolting, deplorable _mess._

Unconsciously, Sakura quickened her pace even further, pouring yet more chakra into every leap and bound. It frightened her to no end, how close they had come to this…for some reason, out of guilt probably; Itachi must have intended to allow Sasuke to kill him. And Sasuke _would _have killed him; murdering the one person who had essentially sacrificed every chance of real life and happiness in order to look out for him.

But that wouldn't happen. She had found the mission record, and that changed everything. She would tell Sasuke, and he would know the truth. It would be traumatizing, yes, but better than finding out after the fact – and perhaps Sasuke's forgiveness (because really, how could he _not _forgive Itachi?) or a possibility of reconciliation between them, would be enough to absolve Itachi of some of his guilt. Sasuke's relentless thirst for revenge would be quenched, allowing him to finally begin some sort of semblance of a normal life, and Itachi…well, she could find out exactly what was wrong with him, and after several courses of medication, his illness would surely subside. And even it was a heart defect that was causing his health issues, instead of the other way around…he had no need to maintain the extraordinarily taxing lifestyle of a missing-nin any longer. That would definitely alleviate the problem. Maybe, if both of their issues were resolved, Itachi and Sasuke could even settle down in Konoha again…

Her mind continued to regurgitate similarly optimistic and hopeful scenarios for the future, and for the first time in what felt like a couple of days, Sakura felt her heart lighten somewhat. She scanned the area quickly, somewhat astonished at the sheer amount of ground she had managed to cover in such a comparatively short time. This was the fastest she'd ever run, including the trip to Sound with Sasuke three years ago. Traveling with Itachi had been educational, to say the least, and sheer adrenaline had given her as much energy and sustenance as the protein bars.

Sakura slowed into a normal walk now, looking around the forest cautiously. Another look at the radio piece confirmed that the team was close – within three miles, actually. Since they hadn't moved at all, she expected that they were still camping out and sleeping. Of course she wouldn't see them, though; Sasuke and Jugo were both very adept with genjutsu, and Karin's abilities would probably conceal the typical chakra signs that radiated from any concealment genjutsu. She would just have to rely on her instincts, and cast a genjutsu-dispelling technique every few minutes she even came close to sensing any abnormality.

She could only hope that she would spot them before they spotted her. True, her heart was racing in anticipation of seeing Karin, Jugo, and Suigetsu again…but her nerves were starting to set in, at the same time. Even though she had the proof in her pocket, Sakura didn't expect that the conversation with Sasuke would be a pleasant one. Not only was she about to challenge everything he had believed in for the past ten, almost eleven years; the foundation of his entire personality, really…but she hadn't forgotten what she had overheard him saying about her on the radio piece. Her heart contracted painfully at the thought of being face-to-face with him again, for the first time in a couple of months – the person she loved. _Had _loved.

It took several minutes of slowly and patiently canvassing the entire area, and three false starts, before Sakura finally thought she had the right location. She formed the genjutsu-dispelling hand seal with fingers that were shaking slightly, focusing her gaze straight ahead. Just like that, something in the air seemed to fracture, and she took one deep, bracing breath before crossing over the threshold.

It was completely still, and even though her muscles subconsciously tensed in apprehension, nothing happened.

The first thing Sakura noticed was that there were only three of them, curled up around a dying fire, and sound asleep – Sasuke was always an early riser; he was probably off taking a bath somewhere or hunting down some form of breakfast. For the first time in her life, she only spared a passing thought for him, though, and for the first time in a couple of days, she felt a genuine smile tugging at her lips. To her gratitude, Karin, Suigetsu, and Jugo all looked okay; battered by the cold, yes, but not to the point where any of them had become ill. Sakura couldn't have imagined how happy seeing them would make her. Sure, when she had first come to Sound, they were just strange new shinobi who she'd have to coexist with…but, as cliché as it sounded, over the years, the three of them had become so much more. Even with everything that had been going on with Itachi…she had missed them, a lot.

Jugo was lying on his back a few feet from Karin and Suigetsu, snoring loudly, and Sakura was glad to see how relaxed his brow looked. She had often worried about the effect that the stress of Sasuke making them leave Sound and then relentlessly dragging them all over a few countries would have on him, and whether it was enough to trigger a transformation. To her relief, though, he appeared all right; his skin a healthy brown, and his features lacking the pinched expression they held when he was experiencing too much strain.

Her gaze flickered to Karin, leaning against a tree with her legs stretched out in front of her. Suigetsu's head was on her lap, and her arms lay across his face; her fingers still maintaining a tenuous hold on the dog-eared pages of her favorite romance novel, one of her few guilty pleasures. Seeing the softer side of Karin – as well as the very few instances where she and Suigetsu exchanged tender moments – was so rare that Sakura just took it in for a moment, feeling an overwhelming rush of fondness for her unlikely best friend. One thing that hadn't changed, though, was Karin's awful habit of falling asleep with her glasses on and then whining when she woke up in the morning to find them hopelessly smudged and bent. In order to spare everybody the annoyance of listening to her, Sakura gave her a somewhat affectionate smirk, before crossing over to her silently and reaching out, intending to gently pluck the glasses off her nose.

She was halfway there; her fingertips just barely resting on the thick black frames, when Karin's ruby-red eyes snapped open with alarming alacrity, and before Sakura could even think of pulling back, her friend's thin fingers locked around her wrist in an iron-hard grip.

Both of them stared at each other for an instant, equally startled. Then Karin let out a muffled screech, standing up so fast that she knocked Suigetsu to the floor, before flinging her arms around her in a formidable death grip. Sakura's first reaction was one of sheer astonishment; Karin was never the affectionate type, and even as she hugged her back hard, smiling and burying her head into the other girl's shoulder, Sakura was honestly unsure whether the red-haired kunoichi was trying to break her ribs or display affection. It sounded like Karin was both laughing and sobbing at once, and when Sakura tried to gently disengage herself from the embrace after seeing purple stars begin to explode behind her eyelids out of sheer pain, Karin only held on tighter, sounding more incoherent than she'd ever heard her. She could only pick out a few garbled words from the entirety of the rant – _"you stupid pink-haired moron, I can't believe you put us through this," "so worried I was sick," "if he hurt you, I swear that I'll help Sasuke kill him—"_

Distantly, through the ear that wasn't being deafened by Karin, Sakura could hear Suigetsu's sleepy mumblings turning into a yelp of recognition, and from the corner of her eye, she saw Jugo rubbing his eyes, sitting up and looking at her as if she was a hallucination.

"Holy shit, _Sakura_?"

"…Sakura-chan, is that really you?"

Karin was forced to let go, beaming, and Sakura turned toward the other two, now smiling so hard that her face was beginning to hurt, as she hugged both of them at the same time. All three of her teammates started talking excitedly at the same time, all trying to be louder than each other.

"Wait, so are you all right? Are you _sure _you're all right?"

"Did you kill him? Is that how you got away? _Shit, _Sakura, it's awesome that you escaped the pyscho, but Sasuke is going to be so pissed—"

"Forget that – how did Itachi even capture you, Sakura? How did he know that you and Sasuke were together? Talk about freak coincidences…"

Sakura opened her mouth and then closed it again, totally uncertain of how she could possibly answer their litany of questions. How could she ever explain to them the kind of terms that she and Itachi were on? She was suddenly all too conscious of the weight of Itachi's mission record in her pocket, covered by the hem of her sweater, but she wouldn't feel right telling them before telling Sasuke. "…I'm fine," she mumbled evasively. "I – I just – I didn't kill Itachi, or anything; he…he left me alone for once, when I was faking sleep, and I left as fast as I could."

They were all silent, and it sent a shiver down her spine – she'd always been an awful liar, but it had just been a half-truth, so…perhaps they wouldn't have seen it written all over her face?

It took Sakura a few moments to realize that her worries were in vain, and that Karin, Suigetsu, and Jugo probably hadn't even heard anything she had said, because they weren't even looking at her, anyway. Their gazes were all fixed on some point behind and about a head higher than her.

…_Oh._

Sakura swallowed over her suddenly sandpaper-dry throat and turned around, her movements feeling stiff and mechanical. Sasuke was standing about a foot away from her, holding a fistful of dead trout in his right hand, and looking as if he had just seen a ghost. Her stunned gaze met his, and she was shocked to see how much older Sasuke suddenly seemed to be; taller, thinner, and the stress and travel had given him a more haggard appearance. She could see the beginnings of stress lines underneath his eyes, just like Itachi's, and his hair had become longer and looked like it would be rougher to the touch. She had to curl her hands into fists, subtly moving them behind her back, to keep herself from doing anything she would regret – whether it was punching him in the face, or throwing her arms around him.

It was hard, though. Looking at him had even more of an impact than hearing his voice over the radio yesterday; it felt like she had been brutally sucker punched in the stomach by somebody who was wearing spiked iron knuckles, and it took a concerted effort to keep her face and expression calm and even. She'd never seen him so stricken, and a few months ago, she'd probably have found it amusing, but now…

"Hello, Sasuke," she managed, forcing her voice into some semblance of normalcy.

Sasuke said nothing in return, his sharp blood-red eyes scanning over every inch of her body, as if they were searching for any sign of harm. His expression was strange, somehow; even more intense than she was accustomed to. Sakura couldn't help but flinch when he reached out in one unnaturally fast movement, quicker than the blink of an eye, his fingertips just barely skimming the skin of her face; sliding down the edge of her cheekbone in a quick caress. "Sakura," he said quietly, and a lot more gently and intimately than she would have expected.

She jerked back, unnerved, and from behind her, Suigetsu cleared his throat decisively. "Right then," he declared loudly, marching forward and wresting the handful of fish from Sasuke's grasp. "Breakfast. Jugo, you're the only other one with a decent Katon. And besides, we need to get another fish for Sakura. So…we'll go to the stream and catch another one, and we might as well cook everything while we're there."

"I'll come along too," Karin said, her voice higher-pitched than usual.

All three of them practically fled the clearing, and as bewildered as she was, Sakura still couldn't miss the oddly significant look that Karin shot Sasuke out of the corner of her eye as she left.

For a few moments, everything was torturously silent, and Sakura was forcibly assaulted by everything that stress had forced her mind to set aside. The last memories of Sasuke, before Kabuto had taken her away…the way he'd dragged her back from the border town, and how agitated she'd been at the very thought of Sasuke giving himself over to Orochimaru's possession technique. She had tried so hard to convince him not to, and she remembered the kiss; the way they had held each other; the way that, for a fraction of a second, she had seen the faintest glimpse of real feeling and emotion in him. After all that, in the few minutes that she'd had before Jugo told her that Kabuto-sensei wanted to see her in the lab, she had wondered whether they were finally on the verge of a real relationship. That was where she and Sasuke had left off: on more uncertain terms than ever. And now…

_Itachi. _The thought made her shiver somewhat, and for the first time, Sakura began to realize the true extent of the situation she had gotten herself into. Her whole body was a mess of tension, and her thoughts weren't much better. She longed to do something, _anything,_ to relieve the achingly tangible tension between them, but she couldn't just whip the scroll out and read it to him, and she had no idea where to go from here. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts and indecision that it took her a moment to react when Sasuke curled his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her close to him and awkwardly wrapping his arms around her.

Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening, and even though her first instinct was to push him away, her stiffened muscles refused to cooperate. Taking her lack of reaction as encouragement, Sasuke tentatively pressed his palms against her back, stroking his hands along the length of her spine with forced gentleness – a strange parody of the way Itachi touched her – that really just ended up feeling…weird. She bit her lip, uncertain – she used to have wanted this more than anything else in the world. The Sakura of three months ago would have thought she had just died and gone to heaven. But now, all she could think of was Itachi, and how this just didn't feel right. Sasuke's movements forced her to turn her cheek to the side, pressing against his chest, and she could feel his strong, perfectly healthy heartbeat hammering just as fast as hers. To her confusion, he showed no signs of wanting to let go, and it was incredibly unnerving. Sasuke had never, ever reached out to her before. He had never done anything like this. It didn't make sense.

She closed her eyes, momentarily overwhelmed, and the words that she had overheard on the radio piece replayed in her head for the millionth time. _No. Forget Sakura. It doesn't matter – in the larger scheme of things, she's not important. We have to focus on Itachi._

It felt like she had just ripped a scab off a festering wound, and all the pain came flooding back in a split second. Before she could think twice about it, Sakura had already pushed Sasuke away; her palms loaded with just enough chakra to make him stagger backward a few paces and almost collide with a tree.

"What the hell are you playing at, Sasuke?" she demanded, hearing her voice rise and feeling her face flush with anger, directed both at him and herself.

Sasuke looked more confused and unguarded than she had ever seen him; he obviously hadn't expected her to react like that. "What?"

She quoted the words she had heard him speak last night, her voice heavy with bitterness and sarcasm. "…The voice transmission was picked up from a radio piece, Sasuke. A radio piece I put up in one of the trees while your brother was sleeping. I don't know what you have to gain by acting like this right now and pretending that you—"

Sasuke took one purposeful step closer to her, but she didn't back down, not even when he glared at her with surprising vehemence. He knew that he was angrier at himself than he was at her, but more than anything else, this was incontrovertible proof that what Karin had told him was true – that Sakura really didn't believe that he cared for her as anything more than a convenience, and that knowledge had been upsetting even then, but seeing it reflected right before him was even worse. "You should know not to jump to conclusions like that, Sakura," he told her acidly.

"Jump to conclusions?" Sakura repeated incredulously. "I know what I heard!"

"You misunderstood!" Sasuke yelled back, so loudly that the birds in the trees all fluttered away.

It took several moments for him to calm down enough to speak properly again, and in that time, Sakura stared at him, torn between continued outrage and confusion. "…What?"

Sasuke reached backwards, rubbing the back of his neck in an obvious attempt to keep his emotions in check. "It was a radio piece, Sakura," he replied bitterly. "Transmissions have static to begin with, and it was a windy day. And, in reflection, I wasn't being specific. I was talking about your chakra. Karin insisted on trying to track your chakra in order to find you and Itachi, and in essence, I told her to forget about it. In the larger scheme of things, your chakra was unimportant, because compared to his, yours is weak and insignificant. _It didn't matter. _So I told her to forget that and focus on Itachi, because even though his was less familiar to her, it was still a million times stronger and easier to get a viable trail from."

Sakura's lips parted in pure, undiluted surprise, and all of a sudden, she felt like it had just gotten much harder to breathe. It made sense, but she didn't know whether she wanted it to or not. If she believed Sasuke, it meant that all the anguish she had put herself through last night was for nothing. It meant that she wasn't worthless, unlovable, foolish, pathetic, undesirable…

But if she didn't believe Sasuke, it would be easier. It would be so much easier to keep things as simple as _Sasuke equals jackass who doesn't care, _versus _Itachi clearly cares, so I'll be with him instead. _

"Oh," she whispered, feeling all the breath leave her body in a harsh sigh, as she buried her head in her hands exhaustedly, before raking her fingers through her hair.

She could see Sasuke watching her, an unfamiliar expression in his eyes, and then he reached out and locked his hand around her wrist tightly, pulling it away from her face. "Everybody makes mistakes," he told her stiffly. "It's all right."

Sakura wondered why he was acting so strangely, and she settled with nodding a little awkwardly. She had the feeling that there was something going on beneath the surface, but she would wait for him to broach the subject first. Sasuke had gone back to studying her intently, and she was overwhelmingly thankful that she had been careful to heal every single visible mark that Itachi had left on her skin last night. But she could see Sasuke taking note of the other things; she knew how stressed and tense she must look, and she had seen the dark, purplish circles underneath her eyes when she had woken up.

"Did he hurt you in any way?" Sasuke demanded, at last, holding her wrist tighter and forcing her to look up at him, and the expression on his face was more than a little frightening. The words were coming faster than usual, and she could see how much they pained him, but he looked determined to get them out. "Sakura, it's all right if he did – well, no, it's _not _all right, but I mean that I would never think any less of you, no matter what happened – but you have to tell me if he did."

Even though she knew that she couldn't technically blame them for this recurring theme that kept popping up in conversation, Sakura glared at him, pulling her wrist away roughly. Especially now that she knew the truth, she couldn't stand everybody's implications that Itachi was some kind of sadistic monster. Especially that it was _Sasuke _who was saying it, when in truth; in their comparatively short time together, Itachi had treated her with more kindness than Sasuke ever had. In reflection, it was so fucking obvious that it made her want to hiss with rage. She hadn't even known Itachi for more than a couple of days before she began to doubt his intentions and motivations regarding the Uchiha massacre…and Sasuke, his own younger brother, had never thought to question what had been so obvious to her. He had been so stupidly, infuriatingly blind that it made her mind reel.

"No," Sakura replied coldly. "Itachi never hurt me – verbally, physically, emotionally, or psychologically."

It took a moment for her words to sink in, and Sakura watched the disbelief register on Sasuke's features, soon followed by the increasingly guarded way he narrowed his eyes as he looked at her again. "…There's no need to pretend to be strong, Sakura," he responded, his tone equally cool. "There's no shame in admitting it."

His words made her see red, but Sakura forced herself to remain calm, taking one step forward and looking him squarely in the eye. "I'm not lying," she said slowly, through gritted teeth. "Look, Sasuke, this possibility might be hard for you to digest, but I want you to think about it and answer me honestly. Have you ever thought – have you ever even had the faintest suspicion – that Itachi might not be the person you think he is?"

She watched his eyes carefully, desperate to see even the faintest flicker of doubt or consideration in his gaze; for _anything _that she could possibly take advantage of, but there was nothing. Sasuke's gaze hardened even further, the muscles in his jaw tightening, as he grabbed her arm in a bruising grip, pulling her closer. "Genjutsu," he said tersely, staring her in the eye, as if trying to see the signs. "I should have known."

He threw her backwards with such vehemence that it knocked the breath out of her body as her head slammed into a tree. Sakura's vision went black, her world spinning mercilessly, and she would have collapsed were it not for his tight grip on her neck. Sasuke was breathing dangerously fast, and she could barely see the way the wheels of his Sharingan had begun to spin out of sheer rage. "So, he's too much of a filthy, despicable coward to face me himself," he spat, pressing down even harder. "I can't believe that he sent _you_, of all people,to do his dirty work. Sakura, damn it – I know you're in there somewhere, so try and break the genjutsu yourself, or I'll break it for you."

She was more than familiar with the methods that Sasuke used to break genjutsu inflicted on other human beings, and the pink-haired kunoichi seriously doubted that Karin knew enough medical techniques to fix her up afterwards. Without thinking twice about it, Sakura lashed out with a super-quick uppercut, sneaking in under his guard and catching Sasuke squarely in the chest. The strike knocked him breathless, forcing him to release his grip enough for her to grab his arm and roughly push it free. She couldn't remember the last time she had been this livid with anger. There was just no reasoning with him when the topic of Itachi came up, so even though she understood what kind of an impact her revelation would have on him, there was no way to discuss it like a rational human being; with gentleness and compassion. "It's not a fucking genjutsu, Sasuke!" she yelled, pulling the mission scroll out of her pocket and throwing it at him with all the force she possessed. "Try denying _this_!"

He caught it instinctively, and the incomprehension in his face was obvious as he looked at the rolled-up scroll. His fingers twitched almost compulsively, and she could practically see the inner conflict written on every one of his features. Sasuke looked at her again; angry, almost accusing, and Sakura glanced away quickly, feeling her insides begin to tie themselves into a knot. She knew what was coming, and the tension was enough to make her sick, but she didn't dare to approach him again.

She heard the rustle of paper as he unrolled the scroll, and Sakura's breath caught in her throat. It felt like she was reading it along with him – his eyes would be scanning over Itachi's name; the date of the mission, indelibly engraved into his memory; the mission rank…the mission parameters, neatly delineated under the date.

Several heartbeats of agonizing silence passed before Sakura finally risked glancing back at Sasuke again. He was holding the scroll open with a white-knuckled grip, and hadn't torn his eyes away from the words. If she had thought he had been pale before, it was nothing to how he looked now. He looked like somebody who had just had the foundations of his entire existence crumble beneath his feet. Which, in a way, they had. Her heart went out to him, despite her best efforts to remain impassive.

Sakura took a few steps closer, reaching up and resting her hand on the tense, dangerously rigid muscles of his shoulder comfortingly. Regardless of what had just happened between them, compassion won out over any anger she held toward him, and he needed somebody to hold onto. Underneath the layers of his black flak vest and long-sleeved dark shirt, she could feel tiny tremors running through his body. "Sasuke…"

Sasuke shook his head minutely. "No," he said, his voice curiously flat and dead-sounding. "No. No. It's not true. This has to be a fake."

Denial. It was predictable, considering Sasuke's personality, and instead of making her angry, his refusal to believe the truth, even when it was staring him in the face, filled her with pity. "Look at the seal," Sakura responded quietly, staring at the mission record. "Konoha's seal – undoubtedly authentic. And the signatures, from all twelve members of the council, and then the Hokage, right there at the bottom. It's real, Sasuke. It's completely genuine."

"It doesn't make sense!" Sasuke exploded, whirling around to face her. "Kami, Sakura, don't you see – it almost makes it worse – Itachi is still a murderer! They were just _orders_! What kind of person follows _orders _to kill their own family? He could have easily disobeyed them—"

"And if he did, do you think Konoha would have just taken it lying down?" Sakura interrupted bluntly. "They would have just imprisoned or killed him the second he refused or showed any signs of not carrying the orders out, and then sent someone else – maybe a whole team of other ANBU to wipe all of you out! _All _of you! Every single man, woman, and child." She lingered on the last word, glaring at him. "Itachi followed their orders because if he didn't, they would have killed you too. You: his little brother; the youngest, most innocent member of the Uchiha clan; the only one who had no idea what they were planning. The only one who had any potential for loyalty to the village and redemption."

Sasuke faltered visibly. "…He could have told my father," he returned, clutching the mission record tighter. "If what this says is right, they were planning a coup anyway – they could have just rebelled the second Itachi told them that the clan was going to be _killed, _and then Itachi wouldn't have had to carry out the massacre anyway. Actually," he continued coldly, narrowing his eyes at her. "Who asked him to rat out our family to the village, anyway?"

Sakura closed her eyes for a moment, locking her hands behind her back in order to quell the urge to punch him in the face. She couldn't believe that these words were actually coming out of his mouth. She didn't know what would be worse; that Sasuke didn't understand how many lives would have been lost in a coup like the Uchiha were planning, or the situation and extraordinary vulnerability that Konoha would have experienced during a violent changing of power of that sort…or that he did understand, and still blamed Itachi for preventing it from happening.

"I cannot believe that you and your brother are actually related to each other," Sakura told him quietly. "No matter what you think he should have done, he didn't. As hard as it may be for you to accept it, he believes that he did the right thing, and made some _unimaginable _sacrifices to do so, and I agree with him. I think that anybody in their right mind would think the same way. Disobeying the village's orders and letting someone else kill him, and you, and the rest of the family, would have been easier. Killing _you_, when he had the chance, would have been easier. Itachi gave up any chance of a decent, peaceful life for himself by letting you live. He gave you the opportunity to have something to live for and strive towards, knowing that when he finally _allowed _you to accomplish your goal, you would be able to have more of a normal life. I…I can't even begin to explain everything to you, Sasuke. Just think about it."

Sasuke's fingers flexed into a fist, but he didn't look angry at her now – just strangely anguished and contemplative. "He still ruined my life," he said shortly, his eyes looking a little shinier than usual. "He lied to me. Everything…it was all a lie."

"He let you _have _a life!" Sakura yelled back, her face flushing with anger. "What do you expect? You were five years old! Did you want him to sit you down and explain the whole convoluted mess to you, and expect you to understand? He didn't want to poison your mind against Konoha, like the rest of your asinine, power-hungry family, and lure you into doing something stupid in order to get revenge against the village – he was willing to take the blame for everything, so you would have a home you could trust and grow up in and rebuild your life!"

This appeared to take Sasuke so much by surprise that he even let the insult to his deceased family pass. "…Oh."

"Yeah," Sakura mocked bitterly, sticking her hands into her pockets. "…_Oh._ You sound so surprised, Sasuke. I imagine that Itachi was the best, most kind and gentle and caring older brother that anybody could ever have, and here you are now, so shocked at the idea that he would do such a thing for you. You thought his mission record was a fake, you still accused him of being a cruel murderer, and…for the kami's sake, don't you have any memories of how he really was a kind, good brother to you? Why is all of this so difficult to believe?"

"Stop," Sasuke ordered, his voice cracking a little, as he hastily turned away from her. "…Please."

Sakura's mouth was already open, ready with another retort, but something in his tone gave her reason to pause for a moment. She'd never heard him sound like this before. It wasn't anger, but something else entirely.

She quickly and silently retreated to the opposite side of the clearing, in order to give him some privacy; curling her knees to her chest and resting her chin on top of her knees and trying to come to terms with all that had passed in the last hour. Sakura was exhausted to the bone, and couldn't allow herself to feel relieved just yet; she was still unsure of what Sasuke's sorrow signified. Did this mean that he had forgiven Itachi?

Sakura stayed still, trying to make sense of her thoughts, and after what felt like forever, when she heard footsteps near her; crunching in the snow, she looked up to find Sasuke holding one hand out to her. His eyes were free of the Sharingan, but red and swollen nevertheless, and his face was set with a kind of grim determination she had never seen before. "Come on."

Sakura took his hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet, and without releasing her hand, Sasuke promptly began to make his way through the woods, toward where she presumed Karin, Suigetsu, and Jugo were cooking near the stream. "What are we doing?" she asked, confused as to whether he was going to tell the rest of them right now as well.

Sasuke spared one glance backward at her. "Getting the others. We're all heading to Konoha right now," he told her coldly. "I have some business to attend to."

His words triggered a strong sense of foreboding, and Sakura buried her heels in the ground, forcing him to stop as well. "What kind of business?" she asked, trying her best to keep her voice calm and nonthreatening.

Sasuke gave her a tiny little smirk that chilled her more than the snow. "Wait and see."

Sakura narrowed her eyes dangerously, reaching out and grabbing his arm, making him turn back and look at her. "What kind of business?"

Her deathly serious tone brooked no argument, and the smile faded from Sasuke's face. "They ordered my family killed, Sakura. If you hadn't told me the truth, I would have killed Itachi, believing that _he _was the guilty one…making the biggest mistake of my life, in other words…and then blindly, stupidly gone back to Konoha." His right hand curled into a fist. "They destroyed my family. They destroyed my life…and Itachi's. All to preserve the status quo, and the so-called _peace._"

Sakura had the awful feeling that she knew where he was going with this, but before she could even open her mouth to say anything, Sasuke laughed a little. This in itself was unnerving, and then he took both of her hands in his own, pulling her close, as if he was going to tell her something truly amusing. "I'm going to destroy their status quo," he told her matter-of-factly. "I'm going to destroy their peace. I'm going to wipe out everything that made them wipe out my family. I'm going to decimate Konoha, Sakura, starting at the village gates, and finishing with their corrupt establishment itself."

Sakura was fairly sure her jaw dropped in utter shock. Unconcerned, Sasuke released her and continued making his way through the forest in order to find the others. He was serious. He was actually _serious._

…And he was going to do it, unless somebody knocked some sense into his head.

Faster than the blink of an eye, in a trick that she had picked up from Itachi, Sakura disappeared and re-materialized in front of Sasuke. He had just enough time to see the anger blazing in her eyes before she sent the ground collapsing from beneath his feet.

Sasuke had suspected there was something slightly off about her from the beginning. The way one of her pushes had sent him staggering back several paces; the fact that a simple uppercut, one that he would have barely felt before she went missing, drove all the breath from his body. He had chalked it up to the fact that the emotional strain of seeing her again had weakened him, but now…well, there was no way to explain away the fact that Sakura had just stomped her right foot and carved an eight-foot-deep crater into the ground. A crater that he was now lying at the bottom of.

"You are such a dumbass!" Sakura raged, compacting packed snow and ice with her hands and pelting them at him from her remarkable vantage point. "Seriously, are you an absolute _moron, _Sasuke? Itachi notified Konoha of what the Uchiha clan was planning on doing because of his absolute _loyalty _to the village, and because he knew that a coup of that scale would probably lead to another war! He wanted to prevent that kind of senseless, needless loss of innocent life, and you – you _idiot; _he's done so much for you and you want to go against everything that he believes in by destroying Konoha and everybody in it? Kami, Sasuke, if you think that's how you're going to avenge what was done to you and your brother and that'll make everything right with you two and the world, you're so wrong – Itachi would probably kill you to stop you from doing something that senseless and unconscionable, anyway!"

Sakura stopped, momentarily exhausted, and her voice raw and arms sore from yelling and throwing snowballs, respectively. She stepped back from the edge of the crater, crossed her arms, and watched stonily as Sasuke finally clawed himself out; wet, covered with snow and with a few bruises forming on his face where particularly hard snowballs had struck him. She had never seen the great Sasuke Uchiha looking so ignominious before, but he still managed to glare at her condescendingly, regardless of his bedraggled appearance. "Then how do you presume I avenge the murder of my clan, Sakura?"

Her muscles tensed, but Sasuke read the expression on her face and sighed minutely. "…I have no intention of harming my brother," he said, his voice barely audible. "But I was ready to kill him…unjustifiably. I could have killed the person who saved my life, and my memories of Itachi would have remained tainted forever. I have been blaming the wrong person for my entire life. Do you understand why I want revenge on the people who did this?"

Sakura reached up and rubbed her forehead wearily. "Just forget about revenge for a day or so, Sasuke," she urged quietly. "Can you do that? Think about what could have been, and just be thankful that now, you know the truth…before it was too late."

Sasuke watched her, frowning a little. He looked hurt and vulnerable, and he finally reached out to her again. "Will you come with me to tell the others?"

Sakura hesitated, glancing down at the mission record in her pocket. She hadn't anticipated what would happen after she succeeded in telling Sasuke the truth and preventing him from pursuing Itachi. "Sasuke, I have to get back. Itachi doesn't know that I took this. I'll write to you and tell you everything tomorrow, all right?"

It took a few moments, but Sasuke finally gave her a reluctant nod. It was all too clear that, despite his tentative acceptance of Itachi, he didn't want to see her go.

"All right," Sakura said uncertainly, more than a little unsure of what to do, even as she stepped forward to say goodbye. "Tell Karin, Suigetsu, and Jugo that I'm sorry I didn't have time to say goodbye, and that I'll see you—"

Sasuke cut her off by sliding one hand around the back of her neck and pulling her forward at the same second that he leaned down, pressing his lips to hers. The kiss was slower and more uncertain than usual, like he was trying to convey something that he couldn't manage in words, and she froze; her hand gripping his wrist lightly. After what felt like forever, Sasuke pulled back, and as Sakura stared up at him, astonished, he carefully brushed one lock of hair behind her ear. "Thank you, Sakura," he murmured softly.

She did the only thing she had the emotional capacity to do right now, in this situation: she gave him a weak smile, and fled; vanishing in the blink of an eyelid.

* * *

Sakura made the journey back to where she and Itachi were staying in what was surely record time. As she flew through the treetops, she had the slight suspicion that she was going into shock. She couldn't believe it. It seemed impossible. The hardest part was now over – Sasuke had actually listened to her, and it seemed like he wasn't going to do anything rash…for now. He didn't seem to harbor any ill will towards Itachi, and that was enough to almost make her want to sing with sheer joy. The knowledge of Sasuke's forgiveness would probably be enough to absolve Itachi of some of his guilt, and after they actually reconciled, perhaps all of them could head to Konoha…not to destroy it, as Sasuke had wanted to, but to sort out the misunderstanding.

Itachi had taken all of the mission records from several months out of the year of the massacre, erasing all trace of them from Konoha's records, and Sakura knew that Tsunade-sama was a reasonable person; faced with such proof – not to mention that the individuals who had ordered the massacre were still all on Konoha's council – she would have to reconsider Itachi's status as an S-ranked criminal. Not only that, but while they were in Konoha, they could have Itachi evaluated and settle on a course of medical treatment for his illness. It was going to be a complicated and maybe lengthy process, but in the end, it was all going to work out, and the thought made Sakura dizzy with exhilaration and happiness.

There were still a few missing links in the story that had to be figured out; most significantly, why exactly Itachi had joined the Akatsuki after he had been forced to leave Konoha. Sakura had the feeling that maybe it was an additional stipulation from Konoha's council, in order to make the circumstances and reasoning behind his defection more genuine, but she wasn't sure.

By the time she returned to the town, walking through the crowded streets at a rapid pace, her muscles ached mercilessly and she was starving, but it was worth it. Sakura stared at the positioning of the sun in the mostly cloud-covered sky anxiously. It had taken longer than she had expected. Too long. She could only hope that whatever errands Itachi had to run were numerous, lengthy in nature, and had been further impeded by how many people appeared to be out and about today.

* * *

His arms weighed down by the amount of bags lined up on them, Itachi somewhat clumsily maneuvered with the lock to the door of his and Sakura's room for a few minutes. His visit to the clinic had taken much longer than anticipated – it had been quite crowded today, and he hadn't known that in order to be prescribed medicine, one had to be seen and evaluated by an on-site medic first. It had been a predictably sobering process, but he had received what he needed from it: six bottles of pills that would keep him alive for another two months or so. It was the last course of medication he would ever receive – a bittersweet thought if there ever was one.

After the visit to the clinic, he had been sidetracked by a sale at the local bookstore, which had a particularly promising poetry section, and on the same street, there was an herbal store that happened to have shelves upon shelves of every flavor of tea imaginable, many of them foreign imports that he had been longing to try. As mildly embarrassing as it was to admit it, Itachi had inherited a bit of his mother's shopaholic tendencies. He had remembered to pick up a large box of shrimp fried rice for Sakura on his way back, and he hoped it was something she would enjoy.

The door swung open, and Itachi entered quietly, carefully depositing his bags on the floor. It took a few moments for him to notice that the room was completely empty. The blankets were in a state of disarray, as if Sakura had thrown them off her in a hurry. Her clothes and underwear, which he had folded neatly after getting out of bed and placed on the pillow next to her, were gone. The bathroom door was open as well, and one glance inside confirmed that the tiles were wet. Perhaps she had just wanted to get out and take a walk…

His worried gaze scanned over the room again, picking up on the smallest details, and Itachi felt his frown become even more pronounced as his eyes lit on a miniscule spot on the thin, grayish carpet that hadn't been there before. It was a color he was all too familiar with…the color of dried blood. He turned quickly, and in a rare physical display of emotion, his frown transformed into a confused, almost suspicious, tilt of his head.

He had most definitely not left his Akatsuki cloak crumpled over the back of the chair like that. He always spread it out and arranged it neatly and meticulously, in order to avoid wrinkles and creases.

Itachi had just reached out, brushing his fingertips against the material of the cloak tentatively, when the door burst open, and Sakura actually fell over the threshold. She was panting as if she had just run several miles; her hair in a state of utter disarray, and her face was flushed.

Itachi raised an eyebrow, surprised, and he couldn't miss the almost panicked expression that flitted over her face for a fraction of a second. "Oh, hello," Sakura commented evasively, shutting the door behind her with hands that were shaking a little. "How are you?"

"…Well," Itachi replied guardedly, not letting go of his cloak.

Sakura laughed a little, reaching back to rub her neck. "That's nice. I woke up a little while ago, and I was just…out, you know. Walking. I needed some fresh air."

In the next second, Itachi was in front of her, his fingers curving around her right wrist. She stiffened, surprised. He was…inspecting…her…palm. Right.

And then Itachi traced one fingernail over the thin, fresh paper cut she had sustained while going through his scrolls of mission records. Sakura flinched back, unable to hide the pain, and tried to pull her hand back to herself, even though Itachi showed no signs of letting go, and she started to panic quietly. _Shit. Shit. _It was a tiny paper cut – she hadn't thought it was necessary to heal it, but…"The smallest wounds are the worst," he commented, seemingly offhandedly.

"I was reading," Sakura returned quickly. "I stopped by the bookstore on my walk, right before I came here. Uncut pages, you know, they're a menace…"

"Sakura," Itachi interrupted coolly, nodding at one of the simple black bags deposited on the floor nearby. "_I _was at the bookstore right before I came here. There was only one book with uncut pages on the shelves, and that appeared to be an encyclopedia of various different yoga positions. Now, I suggest that you tell me the truth."

Sakura stared up at him for a few long moments, an absolutely unreadable emotion flickering over her eyes, and before Itachi could even attempt to read her expression, she actually threw herself at him; locking her arms around his neck and burying her head against his shoulder. He staggered back, taken by surprise, but he wrapped his arms around her anyway.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, far too fast, and sounding totally overwhelmed. "I know how much you wanted to keep it a secret – but I had to know, and it was so unimaginably horrible, I couldn't believe it. I mean, I had to tell Sasuke; I really did; it would be cruel to keep lying to him about something like this, because he wanted to _kill _you for it, and that couldn't happen because in essence, he'd be killing an innocent man—"

Itachi felt his heart jump into his throat, and he pushed Sakura away roughly. His heartbeat had kicked into overdrive, making him feel so dizzy and lightheaded that he had to grab the edge of the chair to keep himself standing. "You did _what_?"

His voice came out much louder and angrier than he had expected, and Sakura tilted her head to the side uncomprehendingly. "I told him about everything – about how everything you did was just because of a mission, and that you really had no choice," she explained, taking his limp hand and looking up at him hopefully. "I…I think he understands why you did everything you did, Itachi. He doesn't hold it against you at all."

Itachi turned away, seemingly unable to look at her. His long bangs had fallen over his face, partially obscuring it from view, but Sakura couldn't blame him; it must have certainly been an overwhelming realization. What she didn't understand was how miserable he looked, and she placed a comforting hand on his upper arm. "It's all right," she said quietly. "Please don't be sad – Sasuke forgives you, so you don't have to feel guilty. It was never your fault, Itachi. You don't have to die at his hands to repay the penance that you think you owe to him and the rest of your family."

"You don't understand," Itachi replied, sounding so strained that it hurt, like it was taking him all the effort in the world not to yell at her. "Sakura, you've ruined everything."

Her brow creased in a frown, and she situated herself in between him and the wall, forcing him to look at her. "I haven't ruined anything," she explained desperately. "Don't you understand? You and Sasuke can both go back to Konoha, and we can show Tsunade-sama the mission records as proof – she'd be willing to rescind your criminal status, and…and you and Sasuke can both live peacefully."

"No," Itachi snapped, and the sudden vehemence in every aspect of his manner was enough to make her flinch, as he took another step forward, purposefully backing her against the wall. "I cannot."

"_Why_?"

From the shallow, even breaths Itachi was taking, she could sense that he was tightly controlling his temper. He knew it was irrational, because Sakura, with all of her foolish, stupid, blindly hopeful idealism, was just trying to do the right thing, and she should hardly be blamed for her compassionate instincts, but at this moment, he was angrier than he had been in a long time. With a few words, she had ruined his best-laid plans; everything that he had spent the past seven years working towards – for _nothing. _For absolutely nothing. "In case you haven't noticed," he hissed, "I suffer from a certain…chronic sickness."

It took a second for comprehension to begin to dawn in Sakura's eyes. "Oh, I know," she said hastily, eager to assuage his worries. "But it'll be all right, really – we can go to Konoha and have Tsunade-sama evaluate you; she's the best medic-nin in the world, you know. I'm sure she'll be able to cure whatever the underlying problem is immediately, or over several healing sessions, with the help of several courses of medication." She blinked up at him with such genuine trust and innocence that it was sickening. "In any case, you won't have to deal with the strain of life as a missing-nin anymore, and that might help in alleviating your symptoms as well. You can be cured, and maybe you'll have to live a more sedate kind of life, but at least it's better than just taking these pills."

Sakura smiled up at him tentatively and hopefully, and even though part of Itachi had already realized the reason why she was so desperate, he couldn't stop himself. He almost hated her, for waving this kind of hope in front of him. She was offering him something that he wanted desperately, but could never have. As cruel as it was, he wanted to watch the optimism leave her eyes and make her feel as drained and sorrowful and bitter as he did.

"I saw a doctor today, Sakura," Itachi commented coolly. "One of the country's best, if the numerous credentials lining the walls of his office are any indication. He confirmed what I have been hearing from medical professionals from the time I was five."

He waited a heartbeat, enough to see the curiosity touch Sakura's features – she was probably considering the possibility of something as wonderful as an impending recovery, or a new course of treatment.

"I have approximately two months to live, give or take a few weeks," Itachi finished detachedly. "It is fatal, Sakura. Terminal. Regardless of what you have just done, it always has been, and it always will be."

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

Again, thank you to everybody who reviewed the previous chapter, and as always, my thanks also to the very talented and amazing SwiftKick for taking the time to read this over.

Any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :)


	13. Break

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was considerate enough to leave a review for the previous chapter. :)_

_Chapter Thirteen: Break_

* * *

Sakura tilted her head to the side, all hints of optimism and hope leaving her features, only to be replaced with pure, utter confusion and hurt. The dispassionately spoken words had felt like a slap in the face. "…What?" she asked slowly, hoping, _begging, _with every fiber of her being that she had misheard. It couldn't be. It didn't make sense.

He glared at her for a few long moments, and the sheer amount of barely-repressed venom and anger in that look made her feel lower than dirt. "You heard me, Sakura," Itachi replied icily, turning away from her.

She stared after him blankly, and it took several moments to comprehend what had just happened. Her throat closed over, and her eyes began to burn with a sickeningly familiar sensation. It couldn't be true. In this day and age, when so many incredible medical advances had been made, how could there be sicknesses that were completely, untreatably _fatal? _She thought as frantically as she could, rapidly mentally cataloguing all of the illnesses she had ever heard or read about. He had to be mistaken.

But Itachi sounded so sure. And she was certain that he would never lie to her.

Despite her best efforts to maintain a calm, rational outward appearance, Sakura's face contorted, her eyes filling up with tears, as she felt her stomach twist painfully. She was going to be sick.

The door slammed so loudly that he nearly flinched, but still, it wasn't loud enough to mask the choked sob that had escaped from her in the last instant before she fled. Regardless of the numerous and volatile emotions churning inside him as he wearily leaned against the wall, lifting one hand to rub the back of his neck, Itachi still found it within himself to feel a pang of remorse for what he had done. Considering what he approximated of Sakura's motivations…it had been callous. Heartless.

But regardless of that, she had still ruined everything – the whole plan that he had spent the past several years steadily, patiently working towards, and his one remaining goal in life…with one foolish, impetuous, thoughtless decision. Instead of waiting to talk to him, or even coming to find him, Sakura had immediately run off to his younger brother, of all the people in the world. Itachi wasn't a saint. He was patient and kind by nature, but still, he was all too capable of feeling anger, even towards her. _Especially _towards her, come to think of it; the girl who had shattered his focus and stolen his heart…who had swept into the semblance of a life that he had cobbled together, and then destroyed it.

_It's not her fault; _a small voice in his head told him disapprovingly. _You were the one that let your guard down, and Sakura simply took advantage of it. _

A frustrated sigh escaped Itachi as he looked up at the cracked, battered ceiling, his fingers curling into tight fists. Regardless of the white-hot fury that had curled around him, blinding his vision, when he had first found out what Sakura had done, and regardless of how he had wanted to shake her and yell at her and force her to understand the repercussions of her actions…there was no way to mitigate the damage she had incurred. None whatsoever. She had thrown a wrench into his best-laid plans, one that couldn't be undone, and now, he just had to figure out where he had to go from here.

More than anything else, though, Itachi hated himself for allowing all of this to happen. For letting Sakura get so close…for allowing his own selfish wants and desires to distract him from his overarching goal. Come to think of it, he should have never even asked her to come with him, on the night that they first met. He should have bought her dinner and given her a stack of money and been done with her.

His shoulders slumped exhaustedly, and he sighed again, unable to maintain the pretense any longer.

It was a lie. As pathetically disgusting and weak as it made him, Itachi knew that he was better off – happier and more content – for knowing her. And he wouldn't trade that for anything. Anger and bitterness were utterly futile in this situation. He could refuse to ever speak to Sakura again or say any number of hurtful things to her, but it would do no good. As much as he hated to admit it, her intentions were good, and she didn't deserve to be punished for her short-sightedness.

He lingered at the wall for a few moments, torn, and then left the room quickly, locking the door behind him.

* * *

For the better part of half an hour, Itachi searched everywhere. Wherever Sakura was, she didn't want to be found – she had concealed her chakra flawlessly, and this town was so unfamiliar to her that he couldn't imagine where she would go if she was upset. He looked around every inch of the inside of the inn and its numerous surrounding Zen and rock gardens and grounds, and before he contemplated stepping out into the town's streets, in a moment of inspiration, he materialized onto the large, flat and rectangular roof of the inn. When he was younger, when life had been much more uncomplicated, he would escape to the roof of his house whenever his father had been in a particularly demanding mood. He'd liked the peace and the isolation, the quiet and the privacy to be alone with his emotions…and the undoubtedly serene sensation of being so close to the heavens. He hadn't known Sakura when she had been young, of course, but they were similar enough in other ways that he gave this theory some credence.

As if to confirm his initial belief, Itachi found Sakura after half a circuit around the perimeter of the roof, huddled up behind one of the large, rusted power boxes, and taking cover from the sleet. Surprisingly enough, she didn't look up when he approached, instead turning away quickly, her hair falling forward to hide her face. "Go away," she ordered, her voice choked with the strain of repressing her tears, but through the cover provided by her long locks, Sakura could see the suddenly stricken expression on Itachi's face.

Of course he could tell her that he had some kind of freak terminal illness and sound and look totally cool and dispassionate about it, but he would get all genuinely upset over the fact that he had hurt her.

It was so unfair. So sickeningly unfair.

Despite her best efforts to keep herself under control, Sakura's features contorted, her eyes filling up with tears again, as he carefully knelt beside her, taking her hands in his own. Itachi looked horrified and remorseful at the same time, and in a rare display of emotion, he reached up, brushing his fingers in her hair and kissing her forehead tenderly, while gently pressing his thumbs against her cheekbones; his fingertips resting against the back of her neck. It hurt him, in a way that he couldn't comprehend or even explain, to see her like this. He had been angered by what she had done, but it had been wrong to try and deliberately hurt her.

"Don't cry, princess," Itachi implored softly, the term of endearment involuntarily slipping past his lips and making him wince. His father used to call his mother that, on the rare occasion that he was in one of his kinder moods, and his mother would always smile and blush slightly, as if the word made her think of happier times. "I did not mean to lose my temper, Sakura. I sincerely apologize."

It was too much. Her insides twisted mercilessly, making her feel sick to her stomach all over again, and Sakura finally broke down into the sobs she had tried so hard to suppress. She leaned towards him, and even though watching her anguish and knowing that _he _was the one that caused it was making Itachi feel unspeakably awful, he reached out, gently pulling her into his arms. Sakura buried her face between his neck and shoulder, sobbing silently and helplessly, and he closed his eyes wearily, lowering his chin until it rested against her hair, and holding her close. She had been through far too much in the past two days, and he hated himself for pushing her so completely over the edge.

This was hurting him worse than the knowledge of his limited time itself, but Itachi focused on stroking her long, tangled hair, closing his eyes wearily. He remembered thinking foolish, bitter thoughts about the fact that before he died, he wanted at least one person to know the real him…to feel sorrow for him; to miss him. It had been unforgivably asinine. He would have rather died at Sasuke's hands, with _nobody _knowing the truth, then have to put her through this.

It took a long time for Sakura's sobs to finally quiet into a silent stream of tears as she nuzzled her face against the side of Itachi's neck, locking her arms around him in a bruising grip. She felt dizzy, and a little bit sick. It felt so surreal. This was a nightmare. An absolute, utter nightmare. The past two days had been too emotionally intense – narrowly escaping from Sasuke and the group, realizing she wasn't ready and would probably never _be _ready to let Itachi die at Sasuke's hands, the night that she had been convinced Sasuke thought she was worthless and then she had thrown herself at Itachi, practically begging him to make her feel validated and loved…and then today. Finding out the truth about Itachi and telling Sasuke. There had been so many extreme highs and lows that it was frightening.

Seeing Sasuke again…well, that had possibly been the worst part. The one that had sent her world spinning relentlessly on its axis the most. It had certainly brought to light one very unexpected realization, one that she had been dwelling on for the entire way home, and for most of her initial conversation with Itachi, before he had told her…that.

It wasn't him. It wasn't Sasuke. It was Itachi. That much was simple, undeniable fact. Sakura understood her own feelings, and there was just no question of there being any indecision on her part regarding her feelings for the two brothers. Once they had all gone back to Konoha again; once Sasuke and Itachi had reconciled and Itachi's name had been cleared and his sickness had been cured, she would have been honest with both of them. She would have told Sasuke that even though she had once cared for him romantically, she had grown up and matured and realized that he wasn't right or good for her, and she would have told Itachi that, well…that he was. She wouldn't have minded the stigma attached to being with him, or Sasuke's reaction when he found out. He would have had the time to get used to the idea. They could have been together, and they would have been happy.

All of the breath left her body in a tiny sigh, and she finally drew back shakily, a little bit ashamed of her complete breakdown. Itachi was watching her with a kind of strange intensity in his eyes, and before Sakura could even blink, he lifted his hand, using the ends of his long-sleeved shirt to gently and a little awkwardly pat the tears away from her face. The surprisingly tender kindness of the gesture caused her eyes to burn a little again, and for a fraction of a second, she could swear that he flinched. She wanted to apologize for whatever she had done that had made him so angry, because she understood that telling Sasuke that Itachi was innocent had horribly fucked things up _somehow, _but she didn't trust herself to speak yet. Just looking at him was hard enough.

"I think you know most of what happened," Itachi told her carefully, obviously trying to divert her from another emotional fit. "I believe that I owe you a full explanation, Sakura. Would you care to know the finer points?"

Sakura nodded, her throat still mostly closed over, and Itachi hesitated only a fraction of a moment before he began to speak. He started to talk about the history, obviously intending to tell her the whole story, but the pink-haired kunoichi shook her head impatiently. "I know about the background history, and why the Uchiha wanted a coup in the first place," she interrupted a little unsteadily, after clearing her throat a few times. "I want to know about _you_, Itachi. Start from the beginning, please."

Itachi raised an eyebrow, momentarily surprised, and Sakura watched as he briefly lapsed into thought again. Under her scrutiny, his dark gray eyes slowly began to bleed that familiar red punctuated with black, and she could tell that he was purposely slowing the transformation down for her. The sight, and the knowledge of what those eyes could do, made her breath catch in her throat. Noticing her reaction, Itachi inclined his head minutely. "In the end, it all comes down to this," he told her quietly. "It is important for you to understand this, because fundamentally, this – this mere genetic anomaly, is the reason for everything that has shaped my life."

Sakura inclined her head, marveling at the fact that Itachi Uchiha, possibly history's most talented Sharingan user, and possessor of the bloodline limit that most shinobi and hidden villages would _kill _to have, had just referred to the shinobi world's most sought-after, admired, and revered ability as a 'mere genetic anomaly.' Still, Itachi continued, the faintest of blushes dusting his handsome features. "The Sharingan is the dominant gene, Sakura. If, for example, you and I…well, it would undoubtedly manifest in our children, regardless of the fact that you do not carry the gene for it."

"Right," Sakura nodded, trying to sound serious and professional, even though she knew her face had warmed in a blush as well.

"This was proven. Still, it was common practice…" Itachi paused, trying to word things delicately, as was his custom. "The elders of the clan, for as long as history itself, discouraged those who sought to marry outside it."

Sakura paused, not wanting to interrupt his story, but in the end, her curiosity won out. "And by _discouraged, _you mean…?"

Itachi looked away from her, and when he spoke again, his voice was tenser and more clipped. "I mean that if the clan discovered that – for instance, that an Uchiha man had chosen to marry a non-Uchiha woman, they would usually arrange for the woman to be killed, and then lure the man back to the clan, before essentially forcing him to marry an eligible female."

The distaste in his tone was evident, and Sakura felt her eyes widen. "But what if—"

Seeing where she was going with her question, Itachi shook his head. "The only times when they spared the woman were when they were absolutely sure that she was not pregnant."

It took a few moments for her to comprehend his words, and Sakura shuddered with genuine revulsion, her mind filling with all kinds of horrible mental images. There were no words. "That is so _sick._"

Itachi nodded, looking troubled by memories that she couldn't possibly guess at. "It was the largely held belief that when two carriers of the Sharingan, ah, mated with one another, the offspring would be a true successor of the bloodline; receiving it from both sides of the family. This made _their _bloodline limits doubly powerful. Simply put, the clan thought that any mixing of Uchiha blood with outsiders would result in children who were tainted, and in a bloodline limit that was somewhat weaker and more watered down, and that," – a small, ironic smirk touched the corners of his mouth – "was absolutely unacceptable, of course."

She suspected that she knew where he was going with this, but still, the implications of his words made Sakura's skin crawl. "…Oh," she replied uneasily.

"My parents were first cousins," Itachi said bluntly. "Their parents were closely related as well, as were theirs, and so on and so forth. You get the picture, Sakura."

"Yeah," Sakura completed, feeling mildly horrified, as she looked him over again. She had never suspected anything like that went on behind the closed doors of the Uchiha clan, and it was absolutely unbelievable. As much like a lovesick teenager as it made her sound to say it, Itachi was physically perfect – totally _not _her idea of what a product of generations-long inbreeding would look like. "So you're saying that I could give you a sandwich and you would be your own family picnic."

The unique phrasing made him smile a little. "Yes. In essence." The smile faded from Itachi's face as he lifted one hand, pressing it against his chest subconsciously. "The practice, while detestable, ensured that the best qualities of the Uchiha clan stayed exclusively in the family, remained pure, and eventually strengthened over time, of course. The bloodline limit, the chakra type—"

"The looks," Sakura mumbled, despite herself.

"…Yes. That too, I suppose." Itachi frowned slightly, looking at her in a silent prompt for her to complete his thought. "You know the repercussions of those actions, yes?"

"The offspring of consanguineous relationships are at greater risk for certain genetic disorders," Sakura recited immediately. "If it is practiced repeatedly, or between particularly close relatives, inbreeding can dramatically increase the chances of offspring being affected by recessive or deleterious traits. This generally leads to a decreased fitness of a population, which is called inbreeding depression."

She looked over at him expectantly, and despite the seriousness of the conversation, Itachi couldn't help but feel a little bit amused – it sounded as if she had swallowed a textbook. "Very good."

Sakura looked at him, obviously concerned, and then she reached out tentatively, touching his chest, right above his heart. "Is this one of the deleterious traits?" she asked quietly.

"The Uchiha clan had many," Itachi responded, closing his eyes briefly. "The clan was prone to several serious mental disorders, such as obsessive-compulsive disorders, neuroticism, and manic-depressive behavior, to name a few. There were numerous physical disorders as well, ranging in seriousness. Not enough to discourage the practice, though, even when the irregularities started manifesting with greater frequency among my cousins and myself. My cousin Shisui was lucky – he had nothing. His younger sister…"

Sakura noticed how Itachi paused abruptly, and when he spoke again, his voice was quite a bit softer. "Her name was Katsumi. She had no physical issues whatsoever, but mentally, she was different from the rest of us. Intellectually average, yes, but even at thirteen, she had the trust and innocence of a much younger child. And then there was Sasuke and I."

"Sasuke?" Sakura asked sharply, and she felt a sudden, deep stab of worry. "I mean, there have been times where I thought he showed some degree of mental instability, but I never knew whether that was just stress or a real condition."

Itachi tilted his head to the side, looking momentarily surprised. "You would know that better than I would," he admitted, at last. "Regretfully, we have only had the briefest moments of contact since he has been a child, after all."

"Yeah," Sakura replied shrewdly, after a few moments of thought, and then fixed him with an uncomfortably perceptive stare. "But what are you not telling me?"

Itachi contemplated doing the right thing as a protective older brother and refusing to elaborate further, but decided it would be quite a bit more trouble than it was worth. "…Have you ever seen Sasuke's bare feet?"

"…What? But, actually…no…I haven't." Sakura frowned again, completely flummoxed. "Oh, whatever. Forget Sasuke. If he's got six toes or something, that's not exactly life-threatening. What about _you_?"

Itachi sighed quietly, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "It is one of the rarer disorders," he told her, at last. "Inherited from my uncle, who died at twenty-one."

Sakura closed her eyes briefly. "What exactly is it?" she asked, bracing herself for what she was about to hear, and already thinking hard; ready to evaluate on her own whether it had any chance of being curable or not.

Itachi hesitated for a moment. "In simplest terms, a fatal heart defect," he replied softly. "It is much too weak, Sakura. It always has been. I was tested at the age of five, which is when the symptoms began manifesting. The weak heartbeat, the fainting, the constant coughing. It started with that, and my health only deteriorated further as time has passed. My mother was a carrier of the gene, you see."

"I'm pretty sure that Tsunade-sama or a team of experienced surgeons could work to correct whatever the flaw is," Sakura interjected hastily, feeling a wild stab of hope, as she reached out, intertwining their fingers together and looking up at him beseechingly. "I mean, it's very major surgery, of course – but it could still work. I'm positively sure that there are ways to heal a hole in the atrium, or an abnormal mitral valve, or whatever it is—"

"You and I both know that it is not that simple," Itachi returned bluntly.

Too tired to argue, Sakura raked her fingers through her hair, momentarily overwhelmed. Her initial approximations of the situation had been right, then: heart defects could also result in a severely compromised immune system, which would, in turn, make Itachi far too vulnerable to even the most common of diseases. He had been doubly cursed. If he managed to survive with the heart defect, the fact that it compromised his immune system severely would do him in, and vice versa. "What is it this time?" the pink-haired kunoichi asked bitterly. "Are you dying of a cold? Or is it pneumonia, or some kind of intractable bronchitis?"

"I'm not sure," Itachi replied shortly. "I believe that it may be bacterial pneumonia. I just know that this particular illness will be the last one." He looked at her with a kind of urgency, squeezing her hand a little, and emphasizing each word, as if begging her to listen to him. "Sakura, please be reasonable. Because of the heart defect and my lung problems, I have been sick my entire life. Because those cripple my immune system so severely, I catch other respiratory sicknesses easily, and that damages my health even further. My body cannot fight the infections off, and they stay within me."

Sakura forced herself to take a deep, calming breath, bringing her fingertips up to massage her temples. From what she ascertained from his words, Itachi had slowly been being destroyed from the inside out for his entire life. "How have you stayed alive for so long?" she asked, through gritted teeth.

"The medics all estimated that I would have died at eighteen," Itachi replied calmly. "The Akatsuki Leader, Pein…he has access to certain medications that are not available to the wider consumer market, for various reasons. They bought me a few years, but my time is running out. I was recently prescribed a legal, although slightly less potent, course of medication, which should give me around two more months."

Sakura blinked a few times, and Itachi could see how intently she was inspecting him, and analyzing every little thing he had just told her. For the first time, he allowed himself to consider what a high-caliber medic-nin she must be – not only had she been trained by the most talented in the field, save for Tsunade herself, but her intelligence was truly formidable.

"Okay," Sakura declared at last, her compartmentalization skills now in full deployment, and she narrowed her eyes at him. There was something she had to tell him, but that could wait; in the larger scheme of things, this question was much more pressing. "What role does your sickness have to play in the larger picture of things?"

And Itachi told her about the plan that he had so painstakingly formulated at the mere age of thirteen, even before he actually carried out the mission to kill his family. About how he had always known that one way or another, he would die at around twenty or twenty-one, so he would allow himself to die at Sasuke's hands, instead of letting his health deteriorate naturally. That way in the eyes of the world, Sasuke would be the one to kill him and therefore redeem himself and the name of the Uchiha clan.

When he had finally finished, Sakura could do nothing but close her eyes, letting the enormity of the information wash over her and sink in. She felt numb, somehow, like she was in danger of going into shock. It didn't make sense, though, because she was _feeling _so much that she couldn't even begin to make sense of it or even think about how to express it in words.

She finally opened her eyes again, looking up at the man sitting across from her and watching her quietly, with newfound respect. "You're a genius," Sakura said bluntly. "I mean it in the sincerest, most genuine way. I'm…" she sighed. "On one hand, I'm so incredibly sorry that I ruined everything that you've been working towards for so long. But on the other, I find it unconscionable that you were willing to die at Sasuke's hands and _never _let him know the truth."

Impulsively, Sakura reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Itachi's ear, and letting her touch linger at his temples. "I mean, you're the person who saved his life and sacrificed everything for him, and yet you were willing to keep having him think of you as some kind of mass-murdering psychopath," she said, half to herself. "It just seems so horribly unfair to both of you."

Itachi said nothing, simply watching as Sakura sat back on her knees and observed the concrete floor, obviously deep in thought. There was a knot forming in his chest that had nothing to do with the sickness. It was so painfully obvious that she was beginning to care for him much more deeply than was acceptable, and that made him uncomfortable. It was not that he didn't feel the same way – he _did, _but Sakura was just setting herself up for the worst kind of heartbreak, and he found that hard to come to terms with.

Itachi forced himself to stand, before holding a hand out to her. She accepted it wordlessly, and didn't let go; instead intertwining their fingers together. They made their way back to their room in total silence, and Sakura sunk down on the bed with an involuntary sigh, letting her eyes slip shut. She felt more drained, physically and emotionally, than she ever had before, but she managed to give Itachi a wan smile when he wordlessly deposited a box of shrimp fried rice into her lap. It had gone cold, but she was impossibly, ravenously hungry, and wolfed it down without even giving a passing thought to decorum.

Itachi was standing by the window, looking out of it with an absolutely unreadable expression on his face, and even though she knew she had to approach him eventually, Sakura sat back, drawing her knees up a little bit and pressing her hands between them as she watched him pensively.

It scared her a little, how strongly she was starting to feel for him. If she was going to be completely honest, she had started getting a little bit too fascinated with Itachi even when she was just beginning to doubt his motivations regarding the Uchiha massacre, and things had just gone further downhill (well, _raced _downhill; _flew _downhill, really) in the time since then.

How many times had she thought '_oh, if he was innocent', or 'oh, if his motivations were actually defensible, somehow, I think that I could really—"_

She had always shut that train of thought down right there, before things could approach the realms of adjectives she didn't want to touch with a ten-foot pole.

Well, it turned out that Itachi's motivations were actually defensible, and Sakura had no idea how her thoughts about him had changed. Her feelings for him had always been a huge, tangled knot that she didn't even want to think about, but now it was unavoidable. Before, there had always been this barrier – the insurmountable, _he-murdered-his-family-for-no-apparent-reason _barrier. That, and her feelings for Sasuke, had been the only thing keeping her away from him…and now, more or less, both of those had been eliminated from the picture entirely.

The physical attraction they had always shared was there, yes, but now that she had a better understanding of Itachi's true personality, the emotional attraction and her perception of that connection had amplified a million times over. She admired and respected him, and…well, she empathized with him. Even though she had literally hated him with every fiber of her being when they first met, things had changed, and there was no denying that Itachi had been the victim of injustice beyond her worst nightmares. As embarrassing as it was to admit it, she wanted to hug him and never let go. She couldn't stand the thought that he had lived for so long as the worst kind of outcast, dealing with all those feelings of pain and guilt in complete solitude. Even more than that, she wanted to get to know him – the _real _Itachi, Sakura felt, was somebody whom she would like very much, and now that they had talked to one another honestly…well, she never wanted to stop.

Sakura flinched almost imperceptibly, before raking her hands through her hair. Except that wouldn't work, considering that according to the so-called best estimations of the situation, Itachi was going to die in two months.

The pink-haired kunoichi scowled, sliding out of the bed, as she felt determination harden her features. Not if she had anything to do with it. Unfortunately, she hadn't learned enough medical techniques to be able to completely heal such a complicated and multi-faceted condition on her own, and she didn't want to try something and inadvertently screw something up. No – there was only one medic-nin in the world who she knew would be able to deal with something like this, and Tsunade-sama was in Konoha.

Sakura schooled her expression back into a semblance of innocent neutrality as she joined Itachi by the window seat, leaning against him gently, even as she battled with how to effectively bring up the topic. "So," she commented evenly, already realizing what her strategy would have to be.

She felt Itachi's arm give a telltale twitch, but he didn't move it to rest across her shoulders like she thought he would. "…So," he replied, his tone dry.

"The weather's clearing up, isn't it?"

She could practically feel him becoming more and more nonplussed with every moment that was passing, and Sakura could just tellthat if she looked up, she would find that Itachi had narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. As of yet, he had no concrete proof, though, so he was forced to answer her question accurately. "It is quite a bit better than it was yesterday, yes."

"So, where to next?"

This was certainly a record, but for the second time in about an hour, her words reduced Itachi to speechlessness. "I do not—"

"Oh, it's excellent that you don't have anything planned," Sakura interrupted, with a tone of deceptive airiness, as she stepped in front of him, taking his hands in her own in a chakra-enhanced, unbreakable grip. The determination in her eyes was as iron-hard as her hold on his hands. "I've been thinking that it's time for me to pay a visit to Konoha."

Already knowing where this was going, Itachi narrowed his eyes at her dangerously, stepping backwards. "Sakura—"

She talked over him without missing a beat. "And you wouldn't make me find my way back all by myself, would you?"

He returned her glare with one of his own. "I would, actually."

Sakura could swear the temperature in the room had dropped several degrees since she had finished eating, but she refused to back down. "Why?" she demanded.

"I do not need to explain myself to you."

"Why are you so opposed to the idea?" she asked heatedly, her voice rising even further. "Why do you have such a fatalistic attitude? As long as there's hope, you have to keep fighting! There's no need for you to just be so resigned to just giving up and sitting back and _dying_!"

Itachi's eyes bled from gray to red, and he stared at her with such bitterness and condescension that it made her momentarily regret the slight outburst, and when he stepped closer, there was no denying that the effect was intimidating. "Do you not think that you have ruined enough already, Sakura?" he asked, his voice harsher than she was used to. "Can you not just leave things alone?"

He started to turn away, but Sakura grabbed his arm impulsively, forcing him to turn back and face her. She was so angry and confused that it made her almost feel sick. It went against all of her estimations of human nature, to turn your back against hope like this…to be so blindly accepting of the worst-case scenario. "Why?" she asked again, feeling her voice crack as she stared up at him, willing herself to comprehend what was going through his mind right now. She hated him for being so damn inscrutable.

Itachi watched her for a few long moments, and finally, all the breath left his body in one long, exhausted sigh. "You could not possibly hope to understand," he told her dismissively.

"Then help me," she countered, lifting one hand and rubbing her aching forehead. "_Please._"

Itachi's lips parted, but then he paused abruptly, looking at the stubborn expression on Sakura's face. Nothing he could say would ever make her give in, and he was exhausted beyond belief, physically and emotionally. He could not handle this any longer, and maybe it was just proof of how weak of a person he was, as his father had always told him, but he didn't want to fight her. He didn't have the emotional or physical reserves to do so any longer.

Besides…he had talked enough today. He had always been quiet, intensely withdrawn, and reserved by nature – _aloof, _as his mother called it – and even under the usual circumstances, conversation made him more than a little bit uncomfortable. The mere thought of the full disclosure that Sakura wanted was enough to set his nerves on edge. He was not a compulsive liar by any stretch of the imagination, but for the past several years, he _had _lived as a double agent. Being so honest and offering another such an intimate glimpse into his thoughts was something that would not happen. He would never be comfortable talking about any facet of his inner workings, especially not _this. _

Sakura wrongly interpreted the expression on his face as indecision, and she looked up at him beseechingly. "Please, Itachi. You won't regret it, I promise."

He looked at her for a few long moments, and nearly every reasonable, logical instinct that he possessed was telling him not to do it. That this, combined with his growing inability to come to terms with his fate, was a recipe for disaster.

Itachi inclined his head a fraction of an inch wearily, keeping silent, and Sakura's face lit up in a radiant smile, before she bounced up on the tips of her toes, linking her fingers around the back of his neck and stretching up to give him a slow, heartbreakingly sweet kiss. He froze for a few moments, unsure of how to react, and she pulled away a little, giving him an inquisitive look. "What is it?"

It felt like a long time ago that he had mocked her for this, during their one fight in the forest. _So much love, all wrapped in such a foolish little girl._

It was very true. And that shouldn't have been as tempting as it was.

After several moments of hesitation, Itachi tangled his fingers in Sakura's hair a little bit awkwardly, pulling her closer and running his lips over the top of her left ear in the lightest possible touch; one that made her shiver a little bit as she leaned closer, pressing the palm of her hand over his heart with a tiny sigh. Regardless of what the rational thing to do in this situation was; regardless of how wary he was of getting closer to her or letting her get closer to him, it was undeniable: he badly wanted what she had to offer.

This time, when Sakura kissed him, Itachi reciprocated wholeheartedly.

* * *

Technically, the trip to Konoha should have taken about four to five days of intense, high-speed traveling, but despite Sakura's half-hearted protestations about time being of the essence, it ended up being seven. It made her feel guilty, yes, but at the same time, she felt that it was the closest thing to total relaxation that she and Itachi had ever experienced. It was nice to travel with him without being obsessed with the danger of running into Sasuke, as well, and she liked to think that the two to three extra days wouldn't cause any horribly negative effects to his health.

It wasn't as if they had transformed into a magically loving couple overnight, or anything. Itachi treated her similarly to how he always had, and didn't suddenly develop a mysterious affinity for numerous displays of physical or verbal affection, although he never rejected her on the sporadic occasions when she felt particularly demonstrative. Since their conversation on the roof, they hadn't talked about…_it _at all. The tensest talk they'd had since then was the awkward exchange that had occurred when Itachi found her writing to Sasuke and telling him where they were headed. In a wild, somewhat brainless and panicked attempt to conceal what she had been writing, Sakura tried to whip it out of sight and tell him that it was a love poem, and in a rare moment of uncharacteristic bluntness, Itachi had asked her if she was completely out of her mind.

"I'm not!" she replied defensively. "It's just that – he's your brother, and I told him I would write to him as soon as I figured out where we'd go from here, and I'm sure he's driving himself crazy with anticipation!"

Upon seeing the dubious expression on her partner's face, Sakura sighed, leaning forward and resting her head on her arms. "What?"

"You are underestimating him," was all that Itachi would say, and it took five minutes of constant beleaguering to get him to elaborate on the point further. "I only mean that from what you have told me, Sasuke seems to be a bit too forgiving to fit in with his personality," he conceded, at last, after giving her a dirty look while rubbing the bruise she had just inflicted on his upper arm. "I would be wary of trusting him so completely."

"I'm pretty sure I already talked him out of destroying Konoha in retaliation," Sakura replied thoughtfully, and much as he had when she had first informed him of that little debacle, Itachi's lips twisted into a disapproving frown. "And I really don't think he has any ill will towards _you_."

Itachi made a small, unconvinced sound in the back of his throat. "You're right," she murmured, closing her eyes briefly. "He's not exactly very easy to read. Anyway, I told him to wait outside Konoha – I figure that you and I can enter the village at midnight, break into Tsunade-sama's office at Hokage Tower, and simply wait there until dawn, when she reports to work."

"…You certainly do have a flair for the overdramatic, Sakura."

"Shut up, it's not like we have any other choice." She bit her lip absentmindedly. "I know _your _status, but I don't know how Konoha feels toward Sasuke. I mean, it's not like he's ever directly acted against them or anything, and I'm sure that some way or another, intelligence has informed them that he got rid of Orochimaru, and Orochimaru was one of Konoha's biggest enemies…"

"We'll see," Itachi responded diplomatically, and in a rare moment of impulse (and to wipe the frown off her face), he leaned forward and brushed a soft kiss against her forehead.

Sakura blushed as red as a tomato, fumbling with her half-finished letter to Sasuke. "What was that for?"

Itachi gave her a slight smirk. "Giving my younger brother a more immediate reason to be angry at me."

The smile faded off Sakura's face as she remembered how strangely Sasuke had acted the last time they had seen each other. "…Totally not a joking matter, Itachi. But, you know, while you're in the mood…" – in one deft movement, she hooked her foot around the back of his knee, pulling him closer in toward her – "you might as well give him a _real _reason."

And Itachi did. Not just in the obvious way, either, but…in his own reticent fashion, he made her more content than she would ever have imagined, to the extent that Sakura was almost sorry when they returned to the familiar realms of the Fire Country again.

They had prepared for today by checking into an inn and sleeping the day away, and had begun the last stretch of their journey a few hours ago. It was a couple of hours past midnight, and there was a cool breeze in the air. This far south, there was no sleet, thankfully, but the cold wasn't what made Sakura shiver. It was like there was a palpable shift in the world around her; the night was so eerily reminiscent of three years ago, when she had left Konoha with Sasuke. Needless to say, she hadn't been anywhere near here since then. She had tried never even to think of Konoha, because of the sickening waves of homesickness and regret that those thoughts triggered. But, though she had tolerated Sound out of sheer necessity, Sakura had never once thought of it as home. From the way every single one of her nerves had tautened with anticipation and her heart rate had nearly doubled, it was only too clear that more than a small part of her still held a strong attachment to the place she had grown up.

Itachi noticed the involuntary physical gesture, and he looked at her querulously. She returned his gaze evenly, knowing that as an Akatsuki member, he must have traveled the world thrice over, but she still wondered whether he felt the same way about Konoha, even after what its leadership had done to him and his family. It was his home once, after all. They had both grown up there. Maybe their mothers had walked with them in the same parks when they were toddlers. Maybe she and Itachi had trained on the same grounds, bought ice cream from the same vendors, or played in the same meadows. She remained silent as they flew through the forest at top speeds, though, too nervous at the mere thought of what they were about to do to even consider making conversation.

"We're now close enough to Konoha to run the risk of encountering ANBU or security patrols," Itachi commented at last, his voice somewhat terser than usual. "Cloak your chakra, and engage the most complex concealment genjutsu you know."

Sakura did so in less than a moment, and she moved closer to him subconsciously. Nothing looked different. Every tree, every blade of grass, every gnarled branch and tangled vine, looked the same as it had three years ago. It probably wasn't the case, but it felt as if she was retracing the exact same steps she had taken on the way out of Konoha, with Sasuke – except this time, what she was doing and her goals were opposite in almost every single way.

Her stomach began to twist herself up into even tighter knots, and she hadn't felt like such a mass of nerves in a long time. There was no sign of other shinobi teams out patrolling the forest, though, but she was so caught up in her own thoughts that when Itachi finally stopped dead, flinging an arm out to restrain her from coming closer, she almost collided with him. They had come to a stop at the edge of the forest, and Sakura's heart leaped into her chest when, through the foliage, she saw the achingly familiar walls of Konoha's East Gate. Toweringly high, and emblazoned with the village's seal at the very center. Behind that gate was her former home, and a path leading into the main street of the village, and a stone bench. She had never relived the moment where she and Sasuke had left Konoha with this much vividness, and it made her ache from the inside out.

This was no time to get sentimental, though. Not with the faint, dark shadows of pacing guards visible across the perimeter of the walls. Before she could even think of what kind of genjutsu would be most effective at this long range, all five guards silently crumpled down into slumped-over sitting positions, like marionettes whose strings had been cut. Sakura looked over at Itachi sharply, noting the fact that for the first time in a week, his eyes were red with the light of the Sharingan; the black pinwheels rotating slowly and hypnotically. "Sleeping genjutsu," he commented unblinkingly. "They will regain consciousness at sunrise."

She only had the briefest time to marvel at his effortless ability before she closed her eyes, precisely concentrating her chakra. Before she could even blink again, in one disorienting moment, she and Itachi were standing on top a roof – on one of the buildings on Konoha's deserted main street, it looked like. Sakura blinked several times, feeling as if she had just been sucker punched, as she looked back and forth slowly.

They were on the roof of one of Konoha's convenience stores. The place where she and Sasuke had spent countless afternoons trudging after Naruto as he meandered his way through the aisles of numerous brands and flavors of microwaveable ramen, loudly speculating about which flavors to get. Four stores down to the left was the Yamanaka flower shop. Right underneath the roof would be Ino's cute little and overwhelmingly purple attic room, where her best friend was probably curled up in her overly squishy bed, hugging her dilapidated stuffed pig close. Sakura's head snapped eastward, scanning the empty streets. The rows of uniform apartment complexes two streets over…and she still remembered. Sixth floor, apartment twenty-two. Naruto…

Not to mention her own house. A mere one street over from here. Sakura knew, instinctively, that her mother would be long gone; probably off staying with her older brother and his family, but she still felt a crazy, irrational pull towards it.

It was only when Itachi quietly said her name that she returned to herself, remembering with a start what their purpose was. "Sorry," Sakura mumbled, looking around until she saw the distant specter of Hokage Tower; rising far above the other buildings. "Do you know what the security situation is going to be like?"

"It is usually unguarded for the night, as the belief is that nobody could possibly get past the ANBU guards around the perimeter of the village," Itachi replied, as they began to cross the rooftops in order to get closer to the tower. "Still, the easiest and least conspicuous way to access the building is through the window to the Hokage's office itself. It was a criminally imbecilic flaw in the building plans – the ledge is wide enough to balance on, and the glass panes are easy to dislocate."

"I don't suppose you'd tell me why you seem to be an expert on breaking into the Hokage's office?"

"…Why, I should have thought it would be obvious. My knowledge on the matter has been gained through the numerous clandestine late-night rendezvous with Tsunade-sama on her office desk, Sakura."

Itachi's rare attempt at lightening the mood with dry, sarcastic humor failed when he had to grab the shocked girl by the arm in order to keep her from falling twenty feet off the roof of the post office. After Sakura had punched him twice and kicked him in the shins, telling him in an infuriated whisper that he possessed the most awful and deranged sense of humor she'd ever had the misfortune to encounter, he decided never to try cheering her up ever again.

"You're right, though," Sakura said grudgingly, after she had carefully alit on the stone windowsill, right behind him. The window was large enough for her to slip in with ease. The ledge had looked perilously narrow from a distance, but once close enough, it became clear that any particularly adept shinobi could balance on it if they were very careful. "This is too easy. Are you sure there aren't any trap genjutsu that will activate once the glass is touched?"

Itachi shook his head slowly, scanning the interior of the office with his Sharingan activated. "There is no presence of any chakra whatsoever." He glanced toward her. "It appears that Konoha has become a little more complacent since your departure."

"It's a good thing that we're good people, right?" Sakura asked grimly.

"Ironic words, spoken from the girl dressed in black, suspiciously lurking on a windowsill, and plotting to ambush the Hokage." Itachi gingerly dislocated the glass windowpane before making his way inside the office completely silently, and once he was safely in, he reached a hand out to her, helping her slide in as well. The pink-haired kunoichi tensed instinctively, almost expecting for a motion sensor to be triggered and several explosives to detonate, but there was nothing. Just stillness.

The expansive office was completely dark, but from what Sakura could see, it looked the exact same as it had the last time she was in here…down to the three bottles of half-drunk sake littered around the desk, and the one empty bottle lying across a tall stack of paperwork. A small, almost affectionate smile touched the corner of Sakura's mouth. She hadn't known Tsunade too well before she had left Konoha, but she had seemed to be nice – and the way Kabuto-sensei had talked about her had definitely instilled a great deal of respect and admiration for Tsunade in her.

As Itachi carefully replaced the window and drew the curtains closed in one smooth movement, as they had been before, all the breath left Sakura's body in a long sigh. She shifted from foot to foot impatiently, glancing at the shadowy grandfather clock in the corner of the office, and unused to the feeling of complete exhilaration coursing through her veins. She had just successfully bypassed the village's best security and broken into the Hokage's personal office in the company of Konoha's most infamous S-class criminal, in an attempt to convince Tsunade that said infamous criminal actually wasn't at all, and that he deserved her immediate medical attention.

…It was undeniable. She had certainly come a long way since she had last been in Konoha.

Meanwhile, as she had been staring restlessly across the office, Itachi withdrew his summoning scroll and began to spread the relevant documents over the free space on Tsunade's desk, organizing them neatly. At first glance, he seemed unbelievably calm and composed, but upon further observation, she could see that his hands were trembling ever so slightly, and his jaw was set more rigidly than usual.

Sakura didn't hesitate to cross the room, wrapping her arms around him from behind and resting her cheek against his back. Itachi stiffened, but finally, he turned around, wrapping his arms around her a little awkwardly. "Don't be nervous," she told him plaintively.

"I am not," he rebuffed, his tone cool. "_You _are."

"No," Sakura frowned. "I'm not. There's no reason to be."

They spent the next few hours until sunrise killing time, as was necessary. They talked. Mindless anecdotes, really, in an attempt to get their mind off what they were about to do. Sakura got Itachi to tell her the ridiculous things he had done during the one time he had been under the influence, and Itachi got her to tell him about all the innocent, crazy missions she had done on her genin team with Sasuke and Naruto – both things that the other had never got the chance to experience. At one point after that, Sakura curled up in one of the two chairs in front of Tsunade's desk, taking a fitful catnap, while Itachi just stared fixatedly at the wall.

Half an hour before sunrise, Sakura woke up as quickly and cleanly as if somebody had poured a bucket of water over her head. She fidgeted in the uncomfortable chair, watching Itachi continue to pace in concentric circles. It had been too long since she'd last eaten, and not just that, but she was so nervous that she was beginning to feel a little bit nauseous. She had gone through the situation of Tsunade finding her and Itachi in her office at least one hundred different times, and Tsunade's reactions ranged from shocked disbelief to the very real possibility that she would pick up one of the nearby heavy oak bookshelves and fling it at Itachi. At the moment, Sakura was leaning uncomfortably towards the latter option.

"You know," Sakura said at last, taking a break from nibbling on the tips of her fingernails nervously, "maybe I should talk to her first and you could…hide in the background or something. Once I ease her into the topic and kind of ascertain her reaction, you could step forward."

Itachi's incredulous look was all the response she was granted. "A good idea, save for the fact that you want me to attempt to _hide in the background _from the most powerful kunoichi in the entire world."

"So…I guess that's a no then."

"Yes."

The tension in the room increased with every moment that passed, and with every hint of pale golden sunlight that began to encroach into the dark office. Sakura was so on edge that she shifted in her chair again, directing the slightest amount of chakra to her inner ears, and just like that, she could hear a million little things she had never picked up before. Among which was the distant sound of high-heeled shoes clacking against the lacquered floors.

Itachi noticed the way that Sakura stiffened suddenly, sitting up straighter and looking towards the door. The two of them stood at almost the same moment, and Sakura reached out, taking his hand in hers and giving it a brief, reassuring squeeze, before letting it go.

Through some freakish stroke of luck, when Tsunade nudged the door to her office open with her hip, both of her hands were occupied. A large stack of official-looking folders was carefully balanced in one, and a plate of what appeared to be perfectly seasoned chicken breasts was in the other. For about a fraction of a second, she didn't seem to notice them; she was so intent on keeping her things balanced in her hands. But then Tsunade tensed, noticing the two unfamiliar pairs of feet on her floor, and then she looked upwards, slowly and disbelievingly.

Sakura's breath caught in her throat, and Tsunade's eyes widened as her gaze focused on Itachi and she nearly stumbled. "What on earth—"

Her voice had risen in a potent mix of anger and shock, and ignoring how Itachi opened his mouth, like he was going to speak, in a moment of irrational panic, Sakura shouldered past him. She put herself between him and Tsunade, and she bowed deeply and respectfully, her hair falling over her face and hiding it from view. "Tsunade-sama, please, we mean you no harm," she said quickly, feeling her heart leap into her throat. "Our intentions are completely peaceful."

She stayed down, hearing the clatter of Tsunade setting the plate down roughly and throwing the folders aside, and she could hear her own blood pounding in her ears. She had never been so afraid in her life.

Tsunade stared at her disbelievingly, momentarily forgetting the presence of Konoha's most wanted criminal lingering in the background. It couldn't be. But that hair was absolutely one of a kind.

She hadn't seen this girl in three years; not since Sasuke Uchiha had forcibly coerced her into leaving the village at his side. Their intelligence had picked up information about Sasuke, of course, but there was never any information about her. As tragic as it had been, the innocent pink-haired kunoichi had been officially listed in the records as missing, presumably dead. As much as Tsunade had wished it was otherwise – it was just unjust for her to be caught up in the sickness and corruption that was Sound, just because of the younger Uchiha's selfish desires – because of her lack of bloodline limit, she couldn't imagine that Orochimaru would have ever consented to keep her around.

"Sakura?" she croaked incredulously, unable to believe her own eyes. "Sakura Haruno?"

Sakura straightened slowly, meeting her gaze. "Yes, Tsunade-sama."

It _was _her. She looked older and more mature, and much tougher and more hardened since the last time she had been in this office alongside Sasuke, Naruto, and Kakashi, receiving a genin mission. But after one glance into the younger kunoichi's eyes – burning bright with unshakable determination – and just by feeling the aura of her chakra signature, Tsunade could tell that the girl spoke the truth. The physical and mental signs were always too obvious in all of Orochimaru's subordinates, but Sakura looked and felt…clean, if that was the right word for it. She might have physically developed into a much stronger kunoichi, but her aura was unchanged. She hadn't been tainted by Orochimaru.

All the breath left Tsunade's body in a long sigh, as she lifted one hand to her temples. This was too much of a headache, too early in the morning. She was almost debating the possibility that this was all a sick hallucination brought on by drinking too much sake the previous night. "Sakura, I am glad to see you," she said genuinely, but her eyes narrowed suspiciously in the next moment as her gaze shifted to Itachi.

Itachi Uchiha. Who, for reasons unknown, was lurking in her office alongside his younger brother's teammate. Who, contrary to _everything _she had ever heard of him, had his infamous bloodline limit de-activated, and was quietly watching her, probably trying to interpret her reaction…with gray eyes half-clouded over and showing the unmistakable signs of rapidly impending blindness. Whose supposedly dark, choking, lethal chakra was calm and even and non-threatening. As a matter of fact, he didn't seem to be poised for any kind of conflict _at all. _There were no weapons on his person, and his Akatsuki cloak was folded neatly over the back of one of her chairs. He and Sakura seemed to have snuck into the village overnight, but there had been no fatalities or injuries among the ANBU guards patrolling the perimeter…no sign of any kind of disturbance, really. They really had come peacefully.

Not to mention the way that Sakura was still standing between them almost protectively, and Tsunade had the uncomfortable feeling that it wasn't _her _that Sakura was trying to protect. And for somebody who had been deeply enamored with and fiercely loyal to Sasuke Uchiha, Sakura should have been trying to rip Itachi apart with her bare hands.

Unless…

Tsunade swallowed over her suddenly dry throat, and instinctively, she glanced toward her desk. Her desk, which had been clearly rearranged – the sake bottles and her paperwork had been relocated to a corner, and the majority of the space had been taken up by what appeared to be official-looking documents that had most definitely not been there the night before.

Documents that, from the telltale uniform design and layout and the seal of Konoha emblazoned prominently on the top, were unmistakably mission records. _But why…?_

"If you are willing to hear us out, we have a lot of explaining to do," Sakura said softly, reading her mind and stealing the words from her mouth.

This was insane. This was completely insane. There should be no room for explanations – this was a man who had murdered his entire family in cold blood, for the kami's sake. _Supposedly. _Still, she was perfectly capable of overwhelming the Uchiha and dragging him down to Ibiki Morino's interrogations department herself. As a matter of fact, she should have done that the second she had seen him.

Taking a deep breath, and shelving her reservations, Tsunade deliberately closed her office door and locked it, before turning to face them again, and her deathly-serious gaze focused on Itachi. "You have five minutes," she said evenly. "Start talking."

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

My thanks to the absolutely fantastic SwiftKick for being considerate enough to read this over – and, as always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated :)


	14. Confluence

_As always, thank you to everybody who was fabulous enough to leave a review. :)_

_Chapter Fourteen: Confluence_

* * *

The tongues of the flame whirled higher and higher with every passing moment that he stared at it, but Sasuke refused to pull his hands backward until he felt the heat singe his sleeves and threaten to make the leap onto the rough black fabric.

He drew his hands back slowly, crossing his arms as he stared morosely into the dancing inferno of reds and oranges. Around him, in their makeshift campsite, Jugo, Karin, and Suigetsu were sound asleep, but he had been unable to sleep all night. They were dangerously close to Konoha, but he hadn't stayed awake just to stand guard. He hadn't slept properly for a week…not since he had last seen Sakura. Sasuke's shoulders stiffened at the mere thought, his eyes narrowing minutely as he continued to watch the fire.

The past week had been one of the worst of his life – almost up there with the week after…

He shied away from the thought, as he always did. Just because his teammates were asleep and nobody was there to witness his moment of weakness, Sasuke let a tormented sigh leave his throat, drawing his chest to his knees and raking his fingers through his hair so roughly that his nails almost drew blood against his scalp. He screwed his eyes shut, feeling the erratic tremors race through his muscles as he rocked back and forth slowly, trying to make sense of his thoughts.

Within the space of the past week, he had experienced what felt like every spectrum of human emotion in response to the sickening revelation that Sakura had disclosed. At first, there was numbing, paralyzing shock; combined with an almost dizzying sense of relief. The latter had surprised him initially and had even shocked his teammates, and Sasuke's lips twisted into a brief frown at the thought. What kind of cold, heartless person did people think he was? Of course he had been relieved and even forgiving at first. Nobody could _welcome _the thought that their beloved older brother had really always been a psychopathic ticking time bomb with mass-murdering tendencies. He had never, ever wanted to believe that of Itachi – it had been forced upon him, to say the least – and deep, deep down, Sasuke liked to think that a small part of him had doubted it. Had realized, at some level, that things didn't add up to something as simple as what Itachi had tricked him into believing.

After the initial shock wore off, though, there was anger – anger that completely obliterated any sense of the relief and associated forgiveness that he had felt in the first hours. Anger like he had never felt before, which was really saying something. Sure, what Itachi had done sounded so _wonderful, _and the orders that he had received so tragically _horrible, _but everybody was so caught up in that – himself included – that they failed to realize the reality of the problem. After he had the chance to think about it further, though…

He had been so full of rage for that entire day, rage at everything and everybody. Despite Sakura's little lecture, he was still seriously entertaining thoughts of reducing the entirety of Konoha to dust and rubble for ordering the execution of his entire family. Almost more than that – and as unconscionable as sweet, good, Sakura would have found it, no doubt – he was furious at Itachi. So furious that part of him still wanted to lock his hands around his older brother's throat and slowly, painstakingly choke him to death.

Who had asked him to rat out the Uchiha clan, anyway? If he had briefly shelved his sense of idiotic morality, Konoha's administration would have never come to know about that so-called rebellion. They would have all fallen in a day, the clan would have come into ascendance, and…they would all still be _alive. _Itachi may have been forced to kill their family, but still – what everybody was overlooking, himself included at first, was that it was _still_ all his fault that they were dead. He was the one who had told Konoha about everything. And that was unforgivable.

The dark thoughts made Sasuke's hands tighten into white-knuckled fists, even now, and belatedly, he realized that his jaw was clenched so tightly that it was nearly painful. The fire leaped ever higher, and he slammed one of his fists into the ground, unable to repress his anger any longer. He ground his fist bitterly into the dirt, and imagined that it was Itachi's face, and that he could hear the satisfying crunch of his brother's nose breaking under the impact.

He wondered if Itachi felt guilty about what he had done. Actually, knowing how apparently _sensitive _and _moral _his dear older brother was, Sasuke assumed that he did. He wanted to ask him that; to mockingly throw all of that back in his face (_do you regret it? Do you regret what you did? Now that you know what happened because of you, do you wish that you had just kept your stupid mouth shut?), _and punctuate every single word with a rib-breaking kick and a jaw-breaking punch and make Itachi hurt worse than he did.

Sasuke closed his eyes, unable to control the rage that was beginning to make his shoulder muscles twitch erratically, but something was different this time. He felt so sickeningly powerless.

Because that wouldn't bring them back.

He could kill Itachi – he could beat his older brother into a bloody pulp and torture him physically and mentally and emotionally until he apologized for what he had done until his voice was raw, but it still wouldn't bring them back.

Nothing that he could ever do would ever bring them back. Nothing that anybody could ever do could ever bring them back. They were lost forever, every one of them.

Save for one.

Sasuke's throat closed over, and at last, he slumped forward, resting his head on his arms. The curse seal was throbbing mercilessly, and he could hear his heart pounding dangerously fast, and worse than that, he could hear Sakura's reproachful voice on a neverending loop in his head. _He saved your life – he's your brother – he loved you so much—_

A miserable, choked sound forced its way free of his throat, and he bit his lip so hard it almost bled in order to silence himself. It was pathetic. He hated how he couldn't control or come to terms with anything he was feeling. It was pathetic how, after he had spent so much time when he was younger crying himself to sleep every night at the thought that Itachi had never really loved him; that he had always been some kind of emotionless psychopath who had only pretended to care about him…that this knowledge that Itachi really _had _always loved him all along, made him so irrationally happy.

And that was why it had scared him, at first – that he had come so close to killing the person who had always loved him, and supposedly centered every decision of the past several years around him. He could have killed Itachi and never known the truth about him…never known that his brother, no matter what other mistakes he had made, had been willing to sacrifice every chance at a normal life in order to ensure that _he_, Sasuke, would have the opportunity to redeem the Uchiha name and have a decent, peaceful life.

That was a double-edged sword, too. Part of Sasuke even resented Itachi for perpetuating and allowing him to live such a repulsive lie for so many years. Because of Itachi, _everything _that he had ever accepted as reality was a lie. Why had Itachi chosen to deceive him like that? Why had he chosen to do that, knowing that every single moment of the lie he was perpetuating was causing his so-called beloved younger brother something no less than sheer, gut-wrenching emotional torture?

Sasuke scuffed a patch of dirt beside him resentfully. He wasn't an idiot; he knew that he was different from others his age, emotionally and mentally, and he knew that without exception, all of it was due to the horrible delusion that Itachi had forced him to grow up suffering under. There must have been some other way, _any _other way, to do things…

It was sickeningly confusing; the sheer blend of emotions that he felt due to this revelation. Aside from the ever-present desire to beat Itachi into a pulp, there had been one day when he had swung completely into denial about what Sakura had told him; convincing himself that everything had been an elaborate lie, and another where he had felt so depressed about everything that he had barely been able to function, and yet another when he had entertained these wildly, crazily hopeful thoughts about reconciliation with Itachi. It was undeniable that a small part of him, very deep down inside, missed his brother deeply (he was the only family he had left, after all), and…he almost wished he could have a chance to have the kind of brotherly relationship he would have had with Itachi if things had not turned out this way.

Underneath everything, though, there was still the ever-present mingled anger and sadness and frustration. Sasuke couldn't shake them, and they felt like they were slowly and steadily driving him insane – he had never been able to cope with any emotions well, and these were a million times worse than usual. They wouldn't go away, and he couldn't make sense of them. Not to mention the fact that, more than anything else, he really didn't know that if he were to come face-to-face with Itachi right now, whether he would want to attack him with killing intent or hug him tight.

_Well, you should find out soon enough, _part of him said bitterly, and Sasuke instinctively glanced east, toward Konoha and the rising sun.

It was true. For some reason that he couldn't comprehend and which Sakura hadn't elaborated on in her letter, she and Itachi had decided to pay a visit to Konoha, saying that it was 'important.' As a postscript, she had added, _you can come, but you absolutely _have _to stay deep in the forest surrounding the village. Send me a message with one of your smaller animal summons when you get there, and I promise I will come out and meet you as soon as it's safe. Please don't do anything reckless._

A tiny, mocking smirk touched the corner of his wasn't sure what exactly _doing anything reckless_ constituted, but…

Sasuke swallowed over his dry throat, leaning forward to rest his chin on his knees, and wrapping his arms around them as well, as he unblinkingly watched the sun begin to rise higher and higher into the sky. His muscles were beginning to tauten with unmistakable anticipation, and he could already feel the adrenaline beginning to course through his veins.

_Itachi…_

He waited.

* * *

_Konoha_

* * *

Itachi got the necessarily-simplified version of the story down in exactly four minutes and fifty-seven seconds, according to Sakura's best estimates.

They had started talking with Tsunade perched on the edge of her seat composedly, carefully perusing the documents and trying to make sense of them. By the time they finished, the Godaime Hokage had her elbows propped up on the table and her head buried in her hands, looking completely and totally overwhelmed and a little physically sickened.

"Tsunade-sama?" Sakura ventured cautiously, shifting in her chair and simultaneously directing a worried glance over at Itachi, who sat next to her, looking exhausted and drained by the effort of spilling the whole sordid tale out again. "Are you all right?"

Tsunade lifted her head a few inches, massaging her temples with the tips of her fingers, and she glared down at her desk, looking as if she hadn't heard her at all. "_Unbelievable,_" she muttered, a dark scowl on her face as she surveyed Itachi's mission records again, staring at them as though they were something unspeakably vile. "This is absolutely unbelievable. I cannot believe that Sarutobi-sensei condoned this kind of—"

"In a way, his hand was forced," Itachi interrupted quietly, his dark eyes shadowed with long-ago memories, and Sakura had to marvel at the fact that he could actually find it within himself to defend the man who had ordered him to execute his entire family.

Tsunade waved one of her hands, aggravated. "No. Nobody can truly force the hand of a Hokage. _I _would have never allowed this to happen. Danzou…Homura…Koharu…they suggested _genocide. _It was practically a war crime." She narrowed her eyes at Itachi. "Why in the kami's name didn't you tell me as soon as you received word that I had taken over as Hokage?" she barked loudly, banging her fist on the table. "That was a good three years ago, Uchiha. So much could have been averted if you had done so. Surely you didn't think that I, or any decent individual, would condone the actions of the previous administration and force you to maintain this horrific pretense?"

Sakura gave Itachi a sidelong glance, a little startled. Tsunade's statement had never occurred to her before, but now that she'd said it…it _did _seem like the logical thing to do. Why hadn't he? If Itachi had come forward to Tsunade as soon as she became Hokage…Sasuke could have learned the truth when he had just been twelve. He would have his brother and Tsunade, and the rest of the team, to help him through the inevitable conflict that would follow.

Sure, it sounded all too easy, but she sincerely believed that it could have been that way. Because Sasuke had been younger then, and a lot more innocent, as incongruous as that sounded – namely, not corrupted by Orochimaru. Sasuke – and therefore, she – would never have defected from Konoha if that had been the case. He would have eventually learned to come to peace with it and with Itachi, and Itachi could have been treated and cured by Tsunade _three years ago, _before his illness had a chance to progress to such a dangerous stage. They could have all had a decent life. Now that she thought about it, it seemed infuriating that Itachi had chosen _not _to do this.

But Itachi met Tsunade's stare evenly, offering no apologies. "You are the last remaining member of the Senju clan, Tsunade-sama. The Shodai was your grandfather. Considering the longstanding rivalry and bad blood between our clans, I did not think it was wise to take such a large risk."

Tsunade sighed irritably, giving him a baleful glare. "…Very well," she admitted grudgingly. "I suppose that it was a valid concern on your part."

They all lapsed into silence, Tsunade returning to carefully looking over the mission records, although she touched them very gingerly, as if they would burn her. Sakura could see the sun rising higher in the sky, and in the quietness that had fallen over the office, she could hear Hokage Tower beginning to bustle with activity. It made her nervous, and she fidgeted in the chair again, longing to ask what they were going to do now, but from the expression of intense concentration on Tsunade's face, Sakura could tell that she was intently contemplating the exact same thing.

"Well," she said finally, her tone clipped, as she pulled a drawer open and withdrew what appeared to be a day planner, quickly striking through many of the listed events. "This changes everything. I'm canceling all council meetings for today – I don't think I can stand to look at those three again until I can research all the law books and find the appropriate charge to have them arrested for, and that might take a few hours. And as of now, Uchiha…" – she pulled out another stack of official-looking documents from yet another drawer, and began grimly initialing everywhere that there was a blank line – "your criminal status is officially revoked."

She sat back in her chair, surveying the two of them evenly, and Sakura couldn't help but feel a little bit awed by the Hokage's sheer, incredible efficiency. She had recovered quickly from the shock of finding out one of Konoha's deepest, darkest, and most well-kept secrets – one that her whole council had known of, save for her, and now she was effortlessly beginning to plot a detailed course of action.

"There's a lot to be done here," Tsunade mused, sounding as if she was half talking to herself, and tapping one scarlet-painted fingernail against her desk. "But I think that we can all recognize what the obvious priority is," she continued, her voice regaining its typical brisk, businesslike quality. "From what Sakura said, Uchiha, your condition needs to be evaluated immediately. I still need to ask you a few more questions, but then you will need to assume a genjutsu of a Konoha shinobi and accompany me to the hospital. You can likely enter through the outpatient wing without being detected."

Sakura literally bit her tongue, staring down at the polished wooden floors. A small, less mature part of her wanted to blurt that she had been medically trained as well and was eager to observe, but as much as she wanted to go with them…due to her lack of medical expertise at that kind of extraordinarily high level, she would probably just hold Tsunade back, and that would be absolutely unacceptable.

She finally looked up to find Tsunade's surprisingly understanding gaze lingering on her, as if she was reading her mind, and the Hokage gave an almost regretful sigh. "I can see that you wish to be present at the examination, but it will be a long process, Sakura, and—"

Sakura interrupted the gentle dismissal by giving her a small, genuine smile. "I completely understand, Tsunade-sama. I would love the opportunity to look around some more, anyway. It doesn't seem like it's changed much, but it is home, and I missed it."

Tsunade's expression relaxed somewhat and she nodded approvingly. "Use a genjutsu to change your appearance for now." She opened another drawer, rummaged around in it for a while, and finally withdrew a battered Sand forehead protector, holding it out to the pink-haired kunoichi. "If anybody asks, you're a Sand kunoichi who has come over here as part of an exchange mission dedicated to studying the magnitude of each village's recent advances in the medical field."

Tsunade watched Sakura accept it with a word of thanks and tie it on. And even though she averted her eyes momentarily under the guise of gathering Itachi's mission records into one stack, she couldn't miss the way that Sakura almost reached out to take Itachi's hand, and the way he looked toward her intently… like he wanted to say something. Probably for the sole reason of her presence, though, the two of them maintained a decent semblance of propriety, exchanging quiet, meaningful looks, before Sakura turned away, walking towards the door. As she did, with one seemingly effortless spike of perfectly concentrated and remarkably precise chakra, her hair and eyes both turned a matching shade of deep chocolate-brown as the door swung shut behind her.

Well. That was…strange. Uncanny. Unusual. And she wasn't just talking about Sakura's high degree of chakra control, either.

Tsunade closed her eyes for a few moments, and pinched the bridge of her nose as she exhaled slowly. _One. Two. Three. _

When she cracked her eyes open, the Uchiha was still quietly staring at the closed door. Like a lovestruck teenager, for god's sake, save for the troubled frown etched onto his brow.

There were definitely alarm bells ringing in her head now, and Tsunade cleared her throat loudly and deliberately. "_Uchiha._"

She had the satisfaction of seeing the almost guilty expression on Itachi's face as he looked back at her, and it just confirmed her suspicion of something being slightly off.

While it technically wasn't imperative for her to know this, the question had been weighing on Tsunade's mind since she had first seen the two of them together. It completely defied logic. Sakura was supposed to be with the younger Uchiha, Sasuke; defeating Orochimaru and running rampant over several countries hunting down Itachi. She wasn't supposed to be _with _her teammate's sworn enemy. Either there was something very wrong going on here, or she was missing some crucial information. Still, she interlaced her fingers and slowly rested her chin on top of them, watching him carefully.

"…You will forgive my curiosity on this matter, Uchiha, but you have to admit that it is a bit of an odd coupling," Tsunade commented, with deceptive delicacy. "How is it that you and Sakura Haruno came to be in one another's company?"

Itachi watched her guardedly for a few moments, obviously debating how much to disclose. "You may have deduced this by your observations of her chakra, but Sakura has been trained by Kabuto Yakushi for the past few years," he replied, at length. "From my understanding, around four months ago, Orochimaru was still in the process of…grooming…my younger brother; manipulating him into acquiescing to his possession technique. Sakura was determined to dissuade Sasuke from this, and Orochimaru decided that having her around was too much of a danger to his interests. He ordered Kabuto to kill Sakura."

This information momentarily shocked her out of the perfectly professional façade, and Tsunade blinked, shocked. "He didn't?" she breathed, before sitting back in her chair, still looking mildly astonished. "As far I as I know, he's never disobeyed a single one of Orochimaru's orders before. I suppose there was a scrap of humanity left in him after all."

Itachi inclined his head briefly. "Kabuto knocked her unconscious, and he wanted to leave her somewhere so far away and so unfamiliar that she would never find her way back to Sound and therefore incriminate him. Sakura wandered around the Land of Stone for three weeks with nothing but the clothes on her back, until we ran into each other at a bar."

Tsunade fixed him with a suspicious look. This was getting stranger and stranger. "And you picked her up," she responded flatly.

Itachi's face flushed slightly, and he decided that he would hope for her to never find out the details of the so-called…agreement he and Sakura had worked out that night. "I thought she would lead me to Sasuke. My time was running out – I wanted to find him sooner rather than later."

"And obviously she didn't," Tsunade mused, her expression becoming more uncomfortably perceptive by the moment. It was all starting to fit into place now. During the time that they had spent together, it was likely that Itachi's façade had slipped, and Sakura was an intelligent, tenacious girl. Kakashi would be pleased to hear that at least one of his students had truly understood the full meaning of the mantra he had tried to drill into their heads. _Look underneath the underneath. _

She watched Itachi carefully as she spoke, noting his reaction to her words. "Sakura's genin-sensei said that Sakura's loyalty to Sasuke was greater than anything he had ever seen. And yet she didn't enable him to fulfill his lifelong aspiration. Instead, she seems to have done some work about finding the truth about _you_ – to the extent that she's even dragged you back here; to possibly the last place in the world you'd ever want to set foot in again. And, strangely enough, according to what you told me, this seems to be the very antithesis of your original plan."

Itachi nodded slightly, but for the first time, he refused to meet her eyes completely.

The satisfied flush of accomplishment that Tsunade felt disappeared all too suddenly as she watched him; her half-smile fading entirely. It all made sense now, and she didn't like what she was coming to understand. The protective way that Sakura had situated herself in front of Itachi; the intensity of her desire to sit in on the examination…the strange little exchange that she had witnessed between the two of them before Sakura had left. It just rubbed her the wrong way for reasons she couldn't fully understand; reasons she didn't even _want _to think about because they were too pessimistic, and Tsunade compulsively straightened the documents again. "Need I ask your incentive in coming here?" she asked abruptly, wishing she didn't know the answer to the question.

Itachi returned her gaze with equal sharpness. "Is it not obvious?"

The conversation was veering into an uncomfortable area, and Tsunade sighed tersely. She was trying to avoid becoming prejudiced before her initial examination, but…she could see through Itachi's chakra barrier as if it was as transparent as glass. And she didn't like what she could see. He was far gone, even farther than Sakura's estimate. She didn't blame Sakura for not picking up on it; she hadn't received that degree of extremely advanced training yet, but Tsunade was beginning to see that the younger kunoichi's optimism might possibly be painfully misguided. She didn't want Sakura to be setting herself up for heartbreak, but—

"Don't you think she's a little too young for you?" Tsunade inquired brusquely, beginning to return the various stacks of paperwork into her various desk drawers. She could feel the Uchiha's gaze starting to burn a hole into her forehead, and even without the aid of the Sharingan, it was an unpleasant experience.

"Yes," Itachi replied, finally allowing some sarcasm to creep into his usually impassive voice. "I do. But Sakura and I have the luxury of time, after all, so like any decent individual, I will simply get platonically closer to her as time passes, and after she turns the magic age of eighteen, we will allow our relationship to deepen."

Tsunade sighed, understanding that she had set herself up for that one, but the bitter expression in the Uchiha's eyes was too haunting even for her to bear, and her demeanor turned serious. She hated admitting this even to herself, but even after so many years as a medic, it was still hard to work with patients with chronic, serious illnesses…especially when they were so young. Because of that, it would have been easier for her if he had been alone. Unattached. Just in case. She tried not to get too emotionally invested in cases like these, but it was usually unavoidable.

"You really don't believe that, do you?" Tsunade asked quietly, massaging her forehead with the tips of her fingers. "You don't even have a tiny bit of hope."

"No. I do not."

Tsunade didn't take the blunt reply as an affront, and she inclined her head determinedly, standing up. "And I give you my word that I will do my best to change that, Uchiha. Let's go."

* * *

Sakura hadn't felt so on edge for at least four hours.

This statement lacked the emotional and dramatic impact of saying she hadn't felt so on edge in her entire life, or even in a few years, but she couldn't help it. In the past few months, her life had taken so many freakish turns that something intensely nerve-wracking and tension-inducing happened at least twice a day.

Still, her heart felt as if it was about to jump out of her throat as she slowly walked through Konoha's busy streets. She hadn't seen any familiar faces yet, but her wide eyes devoured every single detail of her former home. It looked the exact same – like it had been frozen in time.

She couldn't seem to decide where to go. She kept throwing anxious looks through the crowd, desperately searching for anyone she knew, and ever since she had stepped out of the doors to Hokage Tower, her mind had been subtly, insidiously whispering _Ichiraku, Ichiraku…_because it was eight-thirty in the morning, and in about ten to fifteen minutes, Naruto would be making his way over there, loudly yawning and stretching and hollering exuberant greetings to anybody he passed; ready to order his customary extra-large bowl of fresh breakfast ramen.

Sakura's heart constricted painfully at the very thought. Leaving Naruto had been the one thing that had caused her the most amount of guilt, which was why she had always avoided thinking about it whenever possible. Naruto…he would have been completely alone. He must have been so devastated and heartbroken over the loss of not just one of his teammates, but _both _of them. Tsunade-sama and Kakashi-sensei must have had to keep him under a twenty-four hour watch for months in order to prevent him from doing anything reckless, like attempting to flee the village in order to find them.

A vision of his hurt, betrayed face flickered beneath her eyelids, and Sakura sighed deeply, wrapping her arms around the middle of her body as she continued to make her way down the main street. As much as she wanted to see Naruto again; to convince herself that he was all right, and to see how much he had grown and progressed, and whether he had come closer to achieving his dream of being Hokage, she couldn't imagine what she could possibly ever say to him to make things any better. No apology in the world could ever, ever do him justice. Not only that, but she couldn't stand knowing that he probably felt horribly hurt and betrayed by her. Teammates were supposed to stand with one another and support each other. Sasuke had failed to do that for Naruto, and _she _should have been there for him…not running off along with Sasuke, thoughtlessly leaving him behind.

Sakura frowned slightly, pushing her hands into her pockets as another thought occurred to her. Apparently Konoha had always been under the impression that Sasuke had actually forced her to go with him, and as guilty as it made her to admit it – that popular misconception did help her save face. Unfortunately, it only meant that over the years, Naruto would have come to hate Sasuke twice as much: once for leaving, and once for taking _her _away from him as well. And she didn't want that either.

This was all wrong. Somewhere along the way, something had gone awfully wrong, and more than anything else, she wished that it was simple enough for her to just push the "redo" button and transport herself back about four years.

Too rattled by her previous thoughts about Naruto to continue trying to find him, Sakura changed direction abruptly, taking a left turn into the next small side street that she passed, following a path that her feet still remembered after so much time away. It was quieter here, and shaded: the pretty red-and-pink brick houses just as she had remembered. There were still laundry lines hung far above her head, weighed down with clothing, and stretching from one side of the street to another. Even from here, she could hear children laughing from inside the houses, and smell the mouthwatering aroma of fresh fruit pies left to cool on the windowsills. There were toy kunai and shuriken and little practice dummies scattered over nearly every picturesque stone porch.

These were most definitely not the vast stretches of apartment complexes possessed by the majority of single, active-duty shinobi – this was where most shinobi families with young children who attended the Academy lived. Everything that her eyes took in just made Sakura feel so overwhelmingly nostalgic, and when the long-forgotten memories of her and Ino, in better times, sitting in her kitchen and eating apple pie and vanilla ice cream resurfaced, she blinked hard, unsure of why her stomach had just twisted so violently.

It was futile, she knew, but her mind refused to listen to reason. She walked down the street as if on autopilot, mentally taking note of the house numbers.

_9996._

Sakura stopped in front of her childhood home, staring up at it blankly. The emotional impact of seeing it again made her feel like she'd just been punched in the stomach. Like everything else, it looked the same. Like she could walk up the stone steps, reach under the _Welcome _mat on the front porch and pull out a key, and then enter. Like she would find her mother lying listlessly on the couch, the bottle of antidepressants that never quite worked lying on a nearby table, and then sit there and attempt to talk to her and tell her about her day. Eventually she would give up and retreat to her small, tidy room upstairs.

She was halfway up the steps to the porch before she realized what she was doing, and she froze, one hand gripping the railing in a white-knuckled fist as she stared at the house helplessly, listening hard and deciding whether or not to proceed.

Her decision was hastened by the sudden, unmistakable sound of movement behind the screen door, and the startled kunoichi regained enough sense to hastily back down the stairs just as the door opened, and a pretty, but harried-looking dark-haired woman stepped out, holding a little girl by the hand. "Come on, Rui-chan, we don't want to be late; you know how much Iruka-sensei likes it when everybody is on time like they're supposed to be—"

Sakura's chest tightened, as if somebody had closed an icy fist around her heart and squeezed it tight, as she stared at them numbly.

It had been stupid to hope. Wild. Irrational. Idiotic. But her throat was beginning to close over nevertheless; a vague, incriminating stinging coming to the backs of her eyes.

"Excuse me, miss?"

The woman's voice jolted Sakura out of her thoughts, and she stared at her uncomprehendingly. The woman was still holding her daughter's hand, and staring down at her from the porch, looking quite puzzled. "Can I do anything for you, young lady?"

Belatedly, Sakura remembered the Sand forehead protector tied around her head, and realized that she probably just looked like she was lost. "No," she replied, her voice less steady than she would have liked. "I'm fine – I think that I just lost my way for a moment."

She stepped back and forced a polite smile, letting the woman and her daughter pass by, making their way down the street. Before they turned the nearby corner that led them to a shortcut to the Academy, Rui-chan glanced back, giving Sakura a shyly curious look, before turning away again and following her mother.

It was painful to see. That could have been her and her own mother, ten years ago. Sakura only prayed that Rui-chan's father stayed safe, and that Rui never made any of the millions of mistakes that she had. _Stick by your teammates, Rui. Be loyal to your comrades and friends. Don't ever callously throw them aside. No matter how much you sacrifice, you'll never change him. _

Sakura made her way down the street as quickly as possible, unable to ignore how sick she suddenly felt; emotionally and physically. Being in Konoha hurt too much in every single way. _There's no point feeling so upset, _Inner Sakura told her bitterly. _You made your bed three years ago, when you decided to leave with Sasuke_. _Now you have to lie on it. _

Despite her best efforts, Sakura's eyes blurred over with tears as she lowered her gaze, staring at the dirt beneath her feet and trying to blink them away, and she unconsciously quickened her pace, desiring nothing more than to get as far away from her childhood home as possible. Vaguely, she registered that she was back on the main street again, and—

And that was when she literally crashed headlong into something – or, rather, _somebody. _The impact startled her out of her misery, and her and the unfortunate person she had collided with yelped at the same time, but to her horror, Sakura realized that she had made whoever she had run into drop three thick manila folders, all stuffed to the brim with paperwork. Apologizing quickly, she bent down immediately, quickly gathering as many of the papers and folders as she could. "I wasn't looking where I was going; I'm _so _incredibly sorry—"

"Oh, don't worry about it." Sakura heard rather than saw the other person sink to their knees as well, gathering up paper with a great deal more leisure. Part of her noted that it was a female, if the flawlessly manicured, violet-painted, and very envy-inducing nails were any indication. "These are absolutely ancient records anyway, I was just taking them to Hokage Tower for archival after I grab some breakfast, and you know how unorganized the archives are—"

The voice was incredibly familiar, and Sakura felt her entire body still in the midst of stuffing a stack of paper back into a manila folder, and for the first time, she really looked at the kunoichi across from her.

She was dressed differently from the last time she had seen her, in skintight black pants and a high-collared, close-fitting and cropped purple halter top. She looked older; different and more mature, as Sakura supposed she looked as well. But that long platinum-blonde hair, held back in a flawless high ponytail, with long bangs swept over the right side of her face, and her bright blue eyes…

She hadn't seen that face in three years, but she would have recognized it anywhere.

Sakura blinked, jerking backwards abruptly, as soon as she noticed the hand being waved in front of her face insistently. "Hey, are you okay, Sand girl? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Ino Yamanaka ended her statement with a carefree laugh, gently tugging the manila folder free of Sakura's hands and re-tucking it under her free arm. She stood in one smooth, effortlessly graceful movement, and extended a hand down to her. "So, are you here with a team?" she asked with unabashed curiosity.

Sakura shook her head numbly, unsure of what to do, as she reached up, allowing the other girl to gently pull her to her feet, and Ino's features softened. "Oh, you came all the way from Sand all alone? That must suck. But hey – maybe your coordination will improve after having some breakfast?"

She paused, looking at her expectantly, the invitation hanging in the air between them, and Sakura brushed her hair out of her face, unable to conceal how her hand was shaking with nervousness and sheer shock. "Um…all right, sure," she stammered, unable to believe that this was happening.

Ino beamed, looking pleased with herself. Sakura's heart constricted a little, as she tried to restrain herself from throwing her arms around her best friend and hugging her tight. It was so strongly reminiscent of their first meeting, ten years ago, that it took her breath away. Ino's appearance might have changed a little, and she was probably still the same loud, deceptively superficial and obnoxious girl…but that true, genuine desire to reach out to those who appeared to be alone and befriend them was still there. She was still the same girl who had plucked her a beautiful flower, given her a ribbon to tie back her hair, befriended her, and told her that someday, she would blossom as well.

"How long have you been in town?" Ino asked, oblivious to the turmoil that was going on in her companion's head. "Have you tried Ichiraku's ramen yet? It's not the healthiest, of course, but it's still one of the best around. Not to mention that it's the only place open this early."

Feeling rather tongue-tied, Sakura tried to gather her thoughts and maintain the ability to form coherent, believable responses. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't grab Ino by the shoulders and shake her and scream, "_Look at my forehead, Ino-pig! Look at my freakishly huge billboard brow! Doesn't that give it away? Don't you remember me?_"

"…I just got in about an hour ago. And thanks," Sakura mumbled, still shocked – it was so weird to have Ino look at her and talk to her like she was a stranger.

Ino gave her a sunny smile as they began to walk down the street again. "So, do you have a name? Or should I just call you the clumsy girl from Sand?"

"Oh," Sakura responded, startled, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from saying her actual name out loud. She thought frantically, kicking herself for not thinking up an alias earlier, and in the end, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind, as utterly unsuitable as it was. "It's – uh – Karin."

"…Karin?" Ino said, testing out the name and drawing it out, before making a face, and Sakura couldn't keep from wincing. Misinterpreting the look, Ino reached over and patted her on the arm sympathetically. "Don't worry. It's not your fault your parents named you after a weird-tasting, sour fruit. At least _you _probably don't get called a pig on a regular basis."

This rant was heartbreakingly familiar; one that made her want to simultaneously break out in an ear-to-ear grin or just feel awful because she had missed it, and missed _Ino, _so much, and it took a concerted effort for Sakura to school her features into a look of total surprise. "_You, _a pig? You have got to be joking."

This was just the kind of response Ino had been going for, and she tossed her hair back over her shoulder, visibly preening. "I know! That's what I always thought. But no – my name's Ino, Ino Yamanaka, and I think that's a perfectlylovely name, but everywhere I go, it's always _oh, Ino, you're as stubborn as a boar and as ugly to boot, _and then they all start laughing because they think it's _so _clever—"

Ino gave a long, tortured-sounding sigh, which thankfully masked the cough Sakura had to fake in order to conceal the traitorous giggle that had escaped her throat. "It's terrible, really," the blonde kunoichi said huffily. "But anyway – at least you understand. So, Karin, what brings you to Konoha?"

"I'm part of an exchange mission dedicated to studying the magnitude of each village's recent advances in the medical field," Sakura recited Tsunade's statement promptly, earning herself a somewhat quizzical look.

"Oh, you're a medic-nin, then?" Ino asked, sounding intrigued. "That's interesting – have you met Tsunade-sama? She's the best there is, you know."

They had arrived at Ichiraku, and Sakura felt her heartbeat spike palpably as she looked around, but after a moment, her shoulders relaxed. No Naruto in sight. "Oh, yeah," she responded, a little bit distracted, as she used her chakra to scan the surrounding area, just in case. "She's amazing. I think that if I had lived here, I would have liked to apprentice with her."

Ino nodded sagely, sweeping one of the curtains to the ramen bar aside and sliding into one of the tall stools. They paused their conversation momentarily to order two bowls of shrimp ramen, before the blonde kunoichi turned back to her, twirling the end of her ponytail around her finger thoughtfully. "That's funny – nobody here has. Out of our kunoichi, there hasn't been anybody who was quite right – Tenten is the village's best weapons specialist in like three generations, but you know that's a world apart from medical ninjutsu. There's Hinata Hyuga, too, but her father and older cousin are training her to one day step into the role as head of their clan, so that really doesn't leave room for anything else. And then there's me," she added, almost as an afterthought. "I really considered it, but after talking to my dad about it for a while, I decided not to go for it. I'm part of the Yamanaka clan, so we specialize in—"

"—Techniques manipulating the minds of your opponents," Sakura completed instinctively, and in response to Ino's astonished gaze, she smiled weakly, realizing her lapse. "Konoha is home to the most powerful shinobi clans in existence. Of course we know about them too."

Ino relaxed somewhat. "Yeah, I guess. So I decided that it would be more fitting to apprentice with Ibiki Morino. I'm one of the top three interrogators in ANBU's Torture and Interrogation Force," she said, before lowering her voice conspiratorially. "It's supposed to be a big secret, but Ibiki-sensei says that because of how well I've mastered the clan's jutsu, among other things, I have far by the most promise out of all the new recruits. Someday I'm going to take over as the head of the department."

Sakura couldn't help giving her a small, proud smile. She had never guessed at that particular career specialization for her, but it was undeniable that it was a prestigious and highly coveted position, one with a lot of competition. Ino had really blossomed into the beautiful flower and incredibly strong, capable kunoichi that she always knew she would. "That's wonderful," she said sincerely. "I'm really happy for you, Ino."

Ino actually blushed a little. "Thanks."

They ate in silence for a few minutes, immersed in how delicious the ramen was. Sakura had never considered herself as much of a ramen fan as Naruto had been, obviously, but she had forgotten how good Ichiraku was…it was like taking a bite out of home, almost, and being transported back three years. All she needed was Sasuke on one side of her, offering quiet, sarcastic comments when the occasion called for it, and Naruto on the other; slurping noodles happily and conversing about the most random things at top volume.

Sakura felt her lips curve upwards in a small, nostalgic smile as she prodded her noodles with the tips of her chopsticks contemplatively. She had never expected that she would see Ino again, let alone grab breakfast with her while talking about random, innocuous things. Did that mean that there was the smallest chance that someday, the entirety of Team Seven could sit here again in relative peace and friendliness, as they had three years ago? She would give her left arm for that to happen.

"So," Ino commented, through a mouthful of noodles, as she glanced over at her thoughtfully. "How long are you here for, Karin?"

Damn, she hated Ino's propensity to ask difficult questions. "Um – three weeks," Sakura said hastily, throwing out her wildest estimate as to how long Itachi's healing would take. "I'm really looking forward to it. I'm pretty sure I'll be spending most of my time in the hospital, but…" she hesitated briefly, but the temptation was too much. She had no idea what she was doing or if this was even remotely a good idea, but there was no way in hell that she was going to pass up the opportunity to reconnect with her oldest friend. Besides, she was aching to know what happened to Naruto, and she knew that there was a way to very subtly press Ino for information. "I have most evenings and nights off."

Ino practically bounced up and down, clapping her hands together happily. "That's awesome!I do too – so we could hang out then. We could take a thorough tour of Konoha and I could introduce you to all the other chunin and I could probably even set you up with a few interesting guys, and no offense, but I've been to Sand and the shopping there is terrible. It's not like that here, so it's going to be lots of fun—"

Ino trailed off, suddenly looking painfully uncertain. "Um, that is, if you want to, of course. If you're not busy or you don't have other plans. It's totally okay if you do, I just…"

She let the sentence hang again, her shoulders slumping somewhat, and she looked so deflated and sad, so totally _un_-Ino, that it hurt – and it confused Sakura at the same time. It was totally uncharacteristic behavior. "No," she said hastily. "Seriously – I would love to hang out."

Ino brightened somewhat, but there was a distinctly self-conscious manner in the way that she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, momentarily hiding her face from view. "Sorry about that," she responded, and this time, her carefree tone was definitely faked. "It's just…I'm really close with my teammates, you know, and I love them both like brothers, but I haven't had a girl best friend to spend time with in forever. Tenten and Hinata are all right, but they're really busy all the time, and they're just not—"

She stopped abruptly, looking down at her fingernails, and when Sakura finally realized what Ino had been about to say, it felt roughly as if she had been slapped in the face.

She lowered her head as well, under the guise of finishing her ramen, and through her hazy reflection in the remaining broth, Sakura could see that for the second time in as many hours, her eyes were threatening to fill up with tears. This was just such unimaginably tangible evidence of—

She tried to shy away from the thought, but her mind wouldn't let her. _Say it, _Inner Sakura completed acidly. _Your complete and total lack of consideration. Your selfishness and blatant disregard for others. Your inability to comprehend how the decision you made three years ago would affect every single person around you. How your disappearance probably drove your mother so much further into depression that she had to flee the village to stay with Satoshi; how you _and _Sasuke leaving must have devastated Naruto beyond your wildest dreams; how you hurt Ino…_

Sakura blinked hard, overwhelmed, and she realized she was holding her chopsticks in a white-knuckled grip. She glanced at Ino, hoping the other girl hadn't noticed her lapse, but Ino still looked dejected. More than anything else, she wanted to fling her arms around her best friend and release the genjutsu, but the cold, calculating kunoichi in her was telling her that this was the perfect time to get the information she had been seeking all along. She hesitated, still – taking advantage of Ino's emotional state like this was unsavory, but she needed to know this.

"I know what you mean," Sakura responded sympathetically, patting Ino on the arm. "There are nowhere near as many kunoichi in Sand as they have here, and there's only one other kunoichi in my year, so it can be lonely."

Ino nodded, looking as if she was recovering somewhat. "…Yeah. It's just the three of us here, among the chunin at least."

This was just the opening that she needed, and Sakura inclined her head, looking thoughtful, and hating what she was getting ready to do. "…Isn't that a smaller than usual number, though, for Konoha? Did one of you get promoted to jounin early or something?"

Ino gave a short, uncharacteristically bitter laugh. "No." She readjusted her positioning, turning so that she faced Sakura fully, and fixed her with a very serious look. "You're familiar with the story of the Uchiha clan?"

_Oh, am I ever. _Sakura nodded, and Ino sighed tersely, tapping her chopsticks on the side of her bowl. "Then you must know that Sasuke Uchiha defected from Konoha three years ago, then, to join Sound."

The vehemence that Ino pronounced Sasuke's name with was shocking – they had both harbored deep crushes on him for years, after all. Sakura nodded weakly, and Ino's eyes blazed with anger. "That wouldn't have bad enough in itself," she said brusquely. "But he…" She sighed again, all of the fight seeming to go out of her. "My best friend was Sakura Haruno," she said quietly, looking down at the counter, and a shiver ran down the length of Sakura's spine. "She was on Sasuke's genin team. She had a crush on him, like all of us did, and everyone thinks that she suspected he was going to leave. When she went out to try and stop him, he forced her into coming along with him, for whatever reasons."

Sakura unstuck her throat long enough to mutter how horrible that was, and Ino nodded glumly. "It was just awful," she said quietly, her eyes darkening with memories that Sakura didn't even want to guess at.

Her heart was hammering so fast she was sure that Ino would hear it and pick up on her guilt, but she nodded tremulously. Under the counter, she was gripping her knees so hard that they would probably bruise, as she tried to think of the most delicate way possible to ask about what she needed. Any news about her mother would probably just make her break down into a complete, inconsolable mess, but aside from her mother, while she had been gone, she had mostly thought about Naruto. "Both of them disappearing…that must have been especially hard on Sasuke and Sakura's remaining teammate," she spoke up cautiously.

Ino nodded so hard her ponytail swished violently. "Naruto." Her eyes were full of pity. "He – it was so sad. Tsunade-sama and his jounin-sensei had to put him under lockdown, essentially, and sedate him to keep him from running after them. That entire cycle repeated itself for around two months, before Tsunade-sama realized that Naruto was going to drive himself crazy if he stayed here. From what my dad told me, she called up one of her old teammates, this weird Jiraiya person – he's crazy eccentric, apparently, but as talented of a shinobi as Tsunade-sama. So, basically, Naruto left the village with Jiraiya for around two years, and they traveled the world and Jiraiya taught Naruto…stuff. I'm not sure as to the specifics, but he came back a month ago, and he's become _insanely _talented. I've never seen anything like it."

She smiled admiringly. "Hell, he might even someday become Hokage like he's always been ranting on about. But he swore that before he does that, he'll bring Sakura – and Sasuke – back home. I'm definitely on board with _that _idea."

The news about Naruto's improvement was so gratifying that it made her want to smile. Even if it was under this disguise, she needed to see him again. "So…do you think that they're alive, then?"

Ino waved a hand dismissively. "About Sasuke, I don't know, or care. I suppose so, though; no matter what else you can say about him, he was the best shinobi of our year, and I imagine he's only improved since then." She paused, propping her chin up on her hand, a thoughtful expression sliding over her face. "Sakura…we haven't heard any intelligence on her, but…I don't know how, but I _know _that she's out there somewhere. She's stronger than anybody ever gave her credit for…her included."

Sakura nodded again, her throat tight, and somewhat unsure of what to say. _Oh, Ino, if you only knew, _she thought sadly, setting her chopsticks down into her empty bowl. She and Itachi hadn't talked about what they would do after he was healed – she always assumed they would settle down in Konoha, but as much as she wanted to, it was far too soon for her to risk letting anybody know who she really was.

"I'll introduce you to Naruto sometime, though," Ino offered, stretching her arms over her head with a long sigh. "He's really nice and I guess he's grown up to be pretty handsome, but he's not my type. Unless you're already dating someone?"

Ino's expression made it clear that she expected a definitive answer, and Sakura coughed self-consciously. She had never thought of what she and Itachi were doing as _dating, _but… "Kind of?" she offered meekly.

Ino raised an eyebrow at her, looking very skeptical. "Kind of? How can you be _kind of _dating somebody? That doesn't make sense at all."

Sakura tried her best to evade the question. "Well, how about you?" When she had been younger, she had always assumed that Ino and Shikamaru would end up together, but from what Ino had said earlier about both her teammates being like brothers to her, it didn't look like that was the case.

Ino shrugged one shoulder noncommittally. "Nobody. I know, it's shocking – I guess our village has a lot of great guys, and I could probably get any one of them I wanted, but none of them really seem like the _right _one. I don't think I've met him yet, but at the same time I don't want to be with anyone else besides him. Do you know what I mean?"

Involuntarily, Sakura thought of Itachi, and how such a comparatively short time with him had helped her realize that Sasuke wasn't right or good for her at all. "…Yeah," she replied, smiling a little bit wistfully. "I think I do."

They fell into peaceful silence for a few minutes, and Sakura was just thinking about how incredibly nice it was that one good thing had come out of the morning – seeing Ino again had succeeded in distracting her from the nerve-wracking thoughts of Itachi's medical evaluation. If it wasn't for her, she probably would have driven herself insane by now. And she hadn't realized how much she missed her best friend until now.

She opened her mouth, trying think of the words to convey her happiness and gratitude in a way that wouldn't give everything away. "Ino, I'm really—"

Her voice trailed off, her eyes fixing not on Ino's face, but on what was behind her.

There was no sound, but…the thin, almost invisible sheets of pale gray smoke, spiraling up into the sky. The distinctive smoke patterns only brought on by the usage of especially large animal summons.

Taking a cue from the stunned expression sliding over her companion's face, Ino spun around, her eyes widening as she noticed the smoke as well. "It's – it's the East Gate," she stammered, sliding out of her tall barstool so quickly that she nearly tripped. "What the hell is going on?"

Sakura caught her arm to steady her, and her mind was reeling. This was too reminiscent of Orochimaru's initial attack on Konoha three years ago, during the chunin exams. Whoever it was now, though, seemed to be trying to get in as quietly and unobtrusively as possible…and she had the dark, unpleasant feeling that she knew who exactly was responsible for this. "Come on," she said tersely.

It was a comparatively short sprint from Konoha's main street to the East Gate, and made even shorter by Ino's roughly grabbing her by the arm and dragging her through a forested shortcut. Ino was a little faster than her, and she stopped abruptly at the edge of the tree cover, staying concealed while still being able to observe everything, and Sakura nearly crashed into her back when Ino stopped dead, and she heard the way the other girl's breath hitched in quiet disbelief.

Sakura's horrified gaze followed Ino's, fixating upon the three unconscious bodies lying, crumpled, on the dirt floor. From the strange positioning of their limbs and the blood slowly beginning to ooze from their heads, they looked like they had been knocked fifty feet from the top of the gate to the ground.

Ino didn't know what to look for, but she did. A slow tingle of chilling apprehension crawled down the length of her spine as Sakura slowly, steadily looked upward at the giant snake summon towering over the gate – and the four very familiar people it had allowed to balance on its head.

She knew that Sasuke had Orochimaru's ability to summon snakes, but even after three years, the largest summons never failed to make her skin crawl and the hair on the back of her neck stand up out of sheer revulsion. She was only glad that Sasuke had at least had enough foresight to just use it to knock out the guards and not smash through the gate itself.

Sakura's mind kicked into overdrive as she watched Sasuke, Suigetsu, Karin, and Jugo make the leap onto the wall and spread out into a battle formation, all of them watching the village like hawks. The predatory look on Sasuke's face made her palms break out into a sweat, and she knew from the expression of grim resolve on the other three's faces that they would do what he wanted.

"Karin," Ino whispered, tugging on her sleeve insistently, and dismayed, Sakura saw Sasuke vanish, disappearing from sight. She couldn't quite tell where he had gone, and that was _bad._ "Are they – are they alive? The one on the furthest right looks like he's breathing, but I can't tell—"

"I think they are," Sakura replied automatically, taking hold of the other girl's arm in order to prevent her from doing something stupid like dashing out there. None of her friends from Sound, with the exception of Jugo, sometimes, were ever particularly inclined toward any sort of merciful tendencies.

Part of her, of course, was raging at the fact that Sasuke thought it would be a good idea to break into Konoha like a common criminal and possibly seriously injure three innocent shinobi as well, but that wasn't the priority right now. The major dilemma was what to do with Ino. At any second, she would see the three of them – the snake had, luckily, vanished – and she would probably make all hell break loose. And she would be damned if she let Sasuke, or anybody else, hurt Ino.

But at the same time, there was no way to confront Sasuke and the rest of them without giving up the whole ruse, and she doubted that it would be possible to explain everything to Ino in about two seconds. _Knock her out or put her in a genjutsu, _Inner Sakura suggested pragmatically. _You would do it nicer than they would, and it would give you the opportunity to confront them before they do anything worse than they've already done. _

Her mind was whirling so fast she began to feel sick. This wasn't right. Nothing good could come out of Sasuke trying to sneak into Konoha like this. She had explicitly told him to stay outside the village and send her a letter via animal summons as soon as he was there, so she could meet him _outside _and begin to sort out everything that she was going to tell him.

Beside her, she felt Ino abruptly stiffen, all of her muscles going tense and poised for action, and, horrified, Sakura saw her three teammates silently leap from the walls to the ground. Karin, Suigetsu, Jugo. They were all armed to the teeth, their chakra dark and menacing as only Sound shinobi could be, conversing in low tones as they directed cautious glances to the left and right, before beginning to warily advance down the path, toward the fallen bodies of the guards.

She had seen them like this before; poised, and ready to attack.

Sakura spun towards Ino rapidly, but the other kunoichi had arrived at the exact same conclusion. "Ino, don't, we're outnumbered—" she urged quietly, speaking so fast her words blurred into each other. She couldn't let this escalate into a conflict; it would get very brutal and ugly, very fast.

"We're?" Ino returned quietly, her gaze laden with menace. "No. You see their forehead protectors? They're _Sound _– sworn enemies of our village. Last time they were here, our Third Hokage was murdered. Who knows what they're after this time? This is dangerous, and they're probably just an advance force sent to subdue and secure the perimeter before the others come in. You stay back, Karin. This isn't your village, so this isn't your fight. Sprint to Hokage Tower and raise the alarm as you go. I can't let them get past me in case they hurt more people on their way to get to whatever they want."

Panic blinded Sakura's mind for an instant, and she lunged forward, trying to restrain Ino, but she was a fraction of a second too late. In an inhumanly fast, purple-tinted blur of movement, Ino was standing in front of the three guards, blocking their path, with four kunai precisely balanced between her fingers. "Don't any of you worthless pieces of Sound trash even think about taking another step further into my village," she said through gritted teeth, her narrowed eyes flickering between all three of them.

Jugo remained motionless, but Suigetsu's hand tightened incriminatingly on the hilt of his katana, and Karin tossed her hair back, laughing scornfully. "It's three to one, little Leaf kunoichi." Her voice dropped a few octaves, turning deadly. "Your false bravado is _really _funny. We could finish you and these other three weaklings in less than a minute."

In less time that it took Sakura to blink, the kunai that Ino had thrown had sliced a sizeable chunk of flesh out of Karin's right arm – and if the red-haired kunoichi had been a fraction of a second slower in throwing herself backwards and to the side, toward Jugo, it would have impaled her heart.

Jugo materialized close at Karin's side instantly, catching her and steadying her and Sakura watched, horrified, as Karin lifted one shaky hand to her upper arm, and brought it back coated in slick, red blood. It looked like Ino had sliced an artery – there was blood gushing _everywhere, _soaking through the purple material of Karin's shirt and her hand and Karin staggered back, trying unsuccessfully to quench the flow with her hand—

Her first instinct was to run towards Karin and do something to repair the grotesque wound to her arm before she could lose any more blood, but her head snapped towards Ino and Suigetsu, who were now facing off, and Sakura knew Ino was a capable kunoichi, but there was no way she could ever stand a chance against Suigetsu at his worst, and Suigetsu was _brutal. Oh god, oh god, where to go; who to help—_

Ino raised her head defiantly as Suigetsu turned toward her, shaking with rage and holding his katana in a white-knuckled grip, and Sakura felt a shudder of foreboding race through her body. Suigetsu didn't often show it, but nothing in the world seemed to get him angrier than when somebody got to Karin first. "I'll kill you, bitch," he hissed poisonously, advancing towards her, and in that instant, Sakura realized that there was nothing in the world more frightening than watching her closest friends try and slaughter each other. "I'll cut both of your arms off and watch you bleed to death."

Ino refused to back down, settling back into a fighting stance, and Sakura could see that this time, from the positioning of her kunai, she was aiming to distract Suigetsu by finishing Karin, but she had no way of knowing that when Suigetsu was going in for the kill, nothing in the world would stop him until he had succeeded.

Her eyes darted back and forth rapidly, assessing the situation, and she realized what she had to do. It was drastic, and she could only hope it would work, but it was the only way.

In the next second, Sakura materialized in the middle of the ground beneath them, and even before Suigetsu or Ino's eyes could fully widen in surprise, she sunk to her knees, driving a fist laden with as much chakra as she could possibly summon into the ground.

The ground wrenched violently, making her lose her balance, and Sakura hastily retreated back into the shadows of the trees, unsure of what she had done. Huge clumps of dirt flew up into the sky, small rocks scattering everywhere, and the earth beneath all of their feet gave a seismic shift and a deafening, thunderous series of cracks and explosions. Ino and Suigetsu both leaped back as far as they could, looking terrified, and Jugo ceased tying the makeshift bandages around Karin's arm he hastily pulled her back several feet and into the edge of the forest, trying to get out of the range of flying rocks.

When the dust cleared, there was a veritable and unimaginably large canyon split into the ground, dividing Ino and the bodies of the unconscious guards and the Sound team. Sakura stared at her handiwork, momentarily stunned at what she had done in the height of her panic and desperation to keep the Sound team and Ino apart. So Itachi had been right about her abilities after all.

She stayed in the shadows of one of the trees that hadn't fallen, on Ino's side of the canyon, and even though she looked dazed by the destruction, as she slowly pulled herself back up to her feet, Ino stared at her as if she had never seen her before. "Karin?" she asked disbelievingly. "Did you just—"

"Karin?" Suigetsu echoed, confused, looking back at the real Karin, who was helping Jugo tie her blood-spattered bandages, leaning against him and looking pale and a little bit dizzy. "What?" He glared across at Ino, and Sakura could tell that he was considering risking making the leap over to the other side of the canyon and finishing what she had started. "Was this _your _little lame-ass trick?"

Sakura swallowed over her suddenly sandpaper-dry throat and stepped out of the shadows, standing between the canyon, Ino, and the Sound team…and Sasuke, who had been standing in the shadows of the trees, practically invisible, with his kunai trained on Ino's heart. He would have killed her the second she aimed to kill Karin or Suigetsu.

She saw Suigetsu move convulsively towards his katana again, and Karin, even in her weakened state, bristle angrily, reaching toward a shuriken in her pocket. Probably in the shadows, Sasuke had some kind of weapon aimed at her. The explosion and mini-earthquake her technique had probably caused was attracting attention, and she could sense the approach of more than one Konoha shinobi towards here. This had devolved into a fiasco beyond her wildest nightmares, and this was all definitely defying Tsunade-sama's orders to remain unobtrusive and keep things under wraps, but…

"Don't you dare," Ino ordered fiercely, standing up and glaring across the canyon. "Leave her alone. She's from Sand; she has no part in this—"

Their glares shifted to Ino, and Sakura closed her eyes. "Don't," she ordered, her voice loud and firm, but somewhat weary at the same time, and she released the genjutsu with one shake of her head.

She heard Ino gasp, and saw the look of wide-eyed shock come over her Sound teammates' faces as they released their weapons. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sasuke move into the line of sight, his eyes narrowed suspiciously as he watched her.

"Sakura?" Karin said quietly, her hand pressed to her mangled arm, as she looked up at her through somewhat unfocused eyes, and the betrayed expression was clear on her face. "Why are you siding with _her_?"

For his part, the look on Sasuke's face made it clear that she would have hell to pay very, very soon.

"Oh, kami," Ino said faintly, her eyes flickering between Sasuke and the Sound team and Sakura, and she looked shocked to the point of being nauseated. "What the hell is going on here? Sakura?"

Before Sakura could even begin to think of what to say, she heard the telltale rustling of leaves all around them, and even though she knew what she was about to find when she looked up, her muscles all stiffened in dread as she slowly glanced upward.

There were no less than thirty Konoha shinobi, many of them ANBU clad in their eerie bone-white porcelain masks, surrounding them, and every single one of them had their katana trained on Sasuke, Jugo, Suigetsu, and Karin.

And her.

In the blink of an eye, they converged upon her friends; three to each, seizing them in merciless grips and restraining them forcibly, ripping their weapons away and forcing their arms behind their backs in paralyzing holds. She saw Suigetsu, Jugo, and Karin get captured, but Sasuke was out of her line of sight, and that frightened her – he wouldn't hesitate to annihilate as many ANBU forces as possible, and as he was a missing-nin, she didn't know if there was any reason for them to be merciful towards him.

There was someone behind her too, grabbing her tight and pinning her arms behind her back in a wrenching grip that threatened to separate her shoulders from her sockets, even though Ino was screeching insistently, grappling futilely with his arm as she tried to pull her free – "Don't get _her, _you idiot! Sakura saved me from that shark psycho with the katana – kill _him_, if you want!"

But somebody grabbed Ino's arm, pulling her away, despite her vocal protests. "Get back, Yamanaka – go find Ibiki-sensei right now and tell him to prepare for an influx of prisoners. Go!"

Sakura tried to say _no; _tried to tell whoever it was _not _to kill Suigetsu, but she was sidetracked by the sight unfolding across the canyon. Whoever was restraining Karin showed no mercy on her injured arm. With one violent wrench on it as they pulled her arms back, her bandages loosened, blood beginning to gush anew from the open wound, and the red-haired kunoichi's eyes rolled back in her head as she finally collapsed due to blood loss. The sight made Suigetsu struggle like a deranged person, fighting against his captors and snapping his shark-like teeth, and Sakura knew that they wouldn't hesitate to use lethal force to subdue him.

"Don't fight!" she yelled across the chasm, so hard that it made her throat hurt. "That'll only make it worse – please don't fight!" She whirled around, looking at her captor for the first time. "Please – the red-haired kunoichi; she's badly injured, and she needs urgent medical attention."

Her eyes widened in recognition as she realized exactly who was holding her.

"Save it, Sakura," Kakashi-sensei told her grimly. "You have worse things to worry about." He raised his voice, calling commandingly over the ANBU forces. "Subdue them and take them in to the Torture and Interrogation Sector to be dealt with there. If Ibiki isn't available immediately, lock them up until then."

At the same second, one of the faceless ANBU materialized at Kakashi's side, speaking to him in a hushed, terse whisper. "We lost the Uchiha, Taishou. But the Uzumaki is missing. We think that he might have gone after the target."

Jugo had been knocked out earlier in the conflict. As she watched, one of the ANBU viciously jabbed a pressure point in the struggling Suigetsu's neck, and he keeled forward, landing face-first in the dirt with a _thud _that made her wince. One other ANBU had picked up the frighteningly limp-looking Karin. Each sight felt like a crippling blow to the stomach, but Sakura's eyes widened even further as the ANBU's words finally registered in her mind.

_Naruto. Sasuke._

Disregarding her earlier advice about not fighting, Sakura threw a chakra-loaded elbow back into Kakashi's chest, panic clouding her vision as she struggled against his grip with all of her might. Distantly, she heard several cracks and a choked gasp, but she ignored it. She had to get free. She had to go to them.

And then Kakashi's thumb stabbed into the back of her neck, blinding her with pain, and despite Sakura's most valiant efforts, her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she finally succumbed to unconsciousness.

* * *

_to be continued _

* * *

I apologize for this chapter taking so long, but it's my last semester of school and I'm taking a bunch of college and AP classes as well, so things are quite busy. I'll do my best to get chapters out in a timely manner, though.

As always, thank you so much to SwiftKick for taking the time to read this over, and any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :)


	15. Conflicts

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was sweet enough to leave a review. :)_

_Chapter Fifteen: Conflicts_

* * *

He was drifting, in and out of a hazy, disturbing nightmare fog that had seemed to inexorably pervade his entire being.

In some distant corner of his brain that still retained the capacity for rational thought, Itachi knew that it was the sedatives that were doing this. _I apologize in advance for the side effects you'll experience, _he remembered Tsunade saying to him grimly as she injected the needle into his arm. _This won't be pleasant, but it's the best way to ensure that I inspect your system as it is at rest._

He couldn't seem to keep his eyes open, even though he struggled valiantly, despite Tsunade's firm instructions not to fight the drugs – because every time his eyes closed, images of his family flickered beneath his eyelids. Gray-tinted snapshots, oddly shriveled at the edges; eerie despite the fact that they weren't the memories of their last moments (their eyes wide with mingled terror and confusion and hopelessness), before they had all died at his hands. Those were the usual nightmares, but these, strangely, were even more disturbing.

_Blink._

His mother, smiling at him lovingly and reaching out to touch his hair.

_Blink._

His father, his steely gray eyes softened in approval just once, for a fraction of a second.

_Blink._

Shisui punching him in the arm playfully after the two of them had gotten a little carried away during one afternoon and ended up destroying a good sixth of the forest during a playful recreation of the second great shinobi war.

_Blink._

Katsumi beaming up at him, standing up on the tips of her toes to carefully arrange the scarf she had knitted for him around his neck.

Despite his best efforts to force his eyes open, they refused to obey, and Itachi felt the involuntary tremors race down his body; his lips twisting downward in a subtle display of distress. They were coming closer.

And he had wanted to see them, for the longest time; not just their mangled bodies. He had wanted to be ready to step forward and meet them, face to face…to ask if they would take him back. If he was forgiven. But now that they were finally within reach, strangely enough, he didn't seem to want that anymore. Itachi wanted to back away slowly and then turn and run in the opposite direction as fast as he could, and he felt sickeningly guilty for even thinking it. But he couldn't move, as hard as he tried – mentally or physically.

Distantly, he felt Tsunade remove her hands from his bare chest. "Easy," she cautioned, her voice quiet, as if he was removed from it by several miles, but still, he noticed a certain strained quality to her tone. "I don't mean to interrupt this, but from what I can hear, Ibiki Morino is waiting for me outside, and he wouldn't listen to my apprentice Shizune when she told him I was occupied. Apparently there is a bit of a…situation…unfolding right now."

He could make out her blurred face frowning down at him. "Uchiha? Can you hear me?"

His muscles' lack of cooperation was frustrating, and Itachi finally managed a stiff nod, too rattled by the still-present visions of his family – who seemed to be lurking in the corners of the rooms, now, likely because of the way his eyelids were vacillating between closed and open – to muster the energy to even speculate what could possibly be unfolding in the land of the completely living. Tsunade's expression softened for the briefest of moments, and she placed one hand on his forehead. "Hopefully this is something that can be delegated to him for a few hours," she muttered, withdrawing, before turning around and walking away. "I'll be back in a moment, Uchiha."

In his drug-induced haze, that moment felt like an eternity.

His vision blurred, refocused, and repeated the process a few more times before Itachi was finally able to blink up at the ceiling again and see it clearly. It took an effort and probably defied Tsunade's order to take it easy, but he raised his head off the table a few inches, glancing down at himself. To his relief, in the several minutes that had passed since Tsunade had left the room, it seemed to be getting easier to marshal his self-control in order to keep his eyes open, though his muscle function from the shoulders down still seemed erratic, shaky, and unreliable.

In the privacy of the room, the uncertainty showed in Itachi's eyes as he slowly, tentatively lifted his trembling hand to rest against his heart. The curtains of the room had been drawn firmly shut; all the light came from the harsh, jarring fluorescent light bulbs fixed into the ceiling, which made his head ache even more. His perception had been skewed by the sedatives – he had no idea how long Tsunade had been conducting her internal examination. Despite his best efforts to remain impassive, cold apprehension crawled up his spine, stiffening the muscles of his shoulders even further.

That was when the door finally banged open, and Tsunade entered again. Momentarily, he could pick up on the changes in her expression; the dark set of her face and the shadows that had just overcome her gaze, but then she carefully schooled her face back into an impassive façade, shutting the door behind her. "Uchiha, what are you doing awake?" she asked evenly.

Not taken in by the pretense, Itachi carefully pushed himself up a few inches, despite the relentless trembling of his arms. He had always trusted his own intelligence and flawless sense of logic…but any shinobi had to have a healthy amount of respect for their intuition, as well. Everything written on Tsunade's face clearly told him that something was very wrong, and he told her so in no uncertain terms.

The Hokage scowled in response to his matter-of-fact statement, but then she sighed, her gaze briefly sliding past him, and Itachi could see how tired and stressed that she suddenly looked. "I really have no desire to tell you this," she said bluntly. "You can survive without hearing it, and it'll put an undue amount of stress on your respiratory system. Do you have any respect for that?"

"…No."

"Very well."

As weak as his vision was, Itachi still wasn't blind to the fact that Tsunade's tone was decidedly reluctant, and she seemed to be regarding him as if he was a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. The sense of foreboding made his heart constrict, his vision blurring at the edges. Reflexively, as they had always had – whether it was rational or not – his thoughts turned to the one he cared and worried for the most. _Sasuke…_

"…Your brother," Tsunade spoke at last, obviously phrasing her words with great care, "recently mounted what appears to have been the early stages of a sneak attack on Konoha, with the help of three other Sound shinobi."

She watched him, the trepidation visible on her face. Due to the combination of the sedation and the sheer, numbing shock of what she had said, the words took more than a few seconds to register, but when they did, his stomach turned over. Regardless of the potent drugs that were still coursing through his system, Itachi pushed himself into a complete sitting position in an instant, fully intending to stand, but his head spun and his world went black, and in the blink of an eye, Tsunade was in front of him, her supportive hands preventing him from falling flat on his face.

"Relax, Uchiha," she demanded, and distantly, Itachi realized that he could barely hear her over the dangerously fast pounding of his own heart and the ragged gasps that were coming out of his chest in lieu of proper breathing. His fingers were digging into her shoulders and his own weakness and powerlessness was almost as nauseating the knowledge of what his younger brother had done, and his head lowered, his hair falling forward to cover his face.

He tried to ask what had happened, but all that came out was a cascade of hoarse coughs that made his shoulders shake violently and his heart constrict even further as he leaned forward again. It was a sad sight, coming from such a strong shinobi, and Tsunade felt her chest tighten with pity. The shock was obviously too much for him to handle. "Calm down," she ordered, her tone deceptively steady, as she pressed a chakra-loaded palm to his unhealthily cool, clammy chest. "Listen to me, Uchiha! You're not going to do anybody any favors by letting your brother's foolishness give you a heart attack!"

The chakra finally took effect, relaxing his spasming respiratory system, and the coughs died down. Itachi's grip on her shoulders relaxed and he straightened slowly and looked at her, still trying to compose himself and properly catch his breath. His dark eyes were unusually unguarded as they begged for information, which Tsunade disclosed readily. "Don't worry too much, there were no lives lost in the attack itself," she said abruptly, watching him for any signs of another respiratory attack. That last coughing fit had put an even worse amount of strain on his heart than she had anticipated. "From the short briefing Ibiki gave me, Sakura and his apprentice happened to catch sight of Sasuke and his team entering Konoha and intercepted them. The other kunoichi, his apprentice Ino, engaged Sasuke's team in combat to try and delay them, while she told Sakura to run back here and notify the ANBU of the attack. Sakura stayed to protect Ino, and in order to keep her and the Sound shinobi from slaughtering each other, she apparently punched a canyon between them."

Itachi nodded, massaging his chest, and Tsunade continued. "The disturbance attracted ANBU attention, and they subdued Sasuke's team of three Sound shinobi, and Sakura as well – who released her genjutsu and shocked the life out of everybody, apparently—"

Itachi remembered his time in ANBU all too well, down to every single one of their brutal techniques, and the mere thought of them _subduing _Sakura made him narrow his eyes angrily. The vast majority of ANBU did not do what he had done while he was in the force; merely painlessly knocking somebody into brief unconsciousness. They painfully disabled pressure points with scalpels of chakra, starting with the neck and continuing from there, so that upon recovering, every single muscle in the individual's body would be sore beyond belief, and they would experience some degree of mental confusion as well. "Sakura only stepped in to keep the Sound shinobi from slaughtering her friend," he replied sharply. "It should have been obvious whose ally she truly was. Why was she targeted?"

This was the part she _really _hadn't wanted to tell him, and Tsunade crossed her arms over her chest, looking away from him briefly. "Sakura attacked her captor," she said evasively. "Broke six of his ribs with one strike, and she would have done more to get free of him if she hadn't been subdued."

Itachi frowned – it was completely uncharacteristic behavior on Sakura's part. "She would never have attacked a Konoha shinobi," he said shortly. "Not unless—"

His voice died in his throat, and Tsunade's earlier words echoed back in his head. _They subdued Sasuke's team of three Sound shinobi, and Sakura as well…_

Staring as she was at the stainless steel edge of the operating table, Tsunade saw Itachi's grip tighten convulsively over the ridge of the table, his knuckles going absolutely white. When she looked up at him, his face was as pale as chalk, his bloodline limit having activated itself out of sheer stress. It was alarmingly hard for him to breathe, but he forced himself to regardless, ignoring the way his head was spinning. "Sasuke," Itachi said, unable to recognize his own choked voice, and he forgot entirely about the diagnosis; about his medical problems; about what he was here for. He had never been as scared in his life as he was now. Sasuke would have been considered a hostile missing-nin, after all, and ANBU would hardly be inclined to show mercy toward him. "What – what happened to my brother?"

"He evaded ANBU capture," Tsunade replied hastily, seemingly reading his mind. "As soon as he saw which way the conflict was going, he left his teammates and fled the village the way he came."

Itachi closed his eyes, feeling a shallow breath escape his body. "Except," he managed, through gritted teeth, preparing himself for the worst.

"Most of the shinobi who responded to the attack were ANBU…but there were a few, I'm told, who were just in the vicinity. One of those shinobi was Naruto Uzumaki."

The all-too-familiar name felt like a slap in the face.

Naruto Uzumaki. The host of the Nine-Tailed Fox, whom he had made a farce of pursuing for the past three years. Sasuke and Sakura's third teammate, who, according to what Kisame had told him, had to be removed from Konoha in order to keep him away from the Akatsuki _and _to prevent him from pursuing Sasuke and Sakura to Sound in order to bring them back.

His mind was trying to regurgitate every single thing that Madara had ever told him regarding Naruto Uzumaki, but it seemed to be stuck on one fact, which it repeated, over and over and over again. _Dangerously unstable when provoked_, _dangerously unstable when provoked—_

He could see it in his mind's eye, as clearly as if he was right there when it happened – Sasuke, making an escape amidst the confusion, and Naruto, following him—

Itachi slid off the table and staggered forward, grabbing his discarded shirt from where it lay and haphazardly pulling it over his head. He couldn't seem to catch his breath properly, and the floor was spinning beneath his feet, but he barely registered it. His train of thought had devolved solely to the scale of _find Sasuke, find Sasuke, _over and over again, and nothing – _nothing _– would stop him. He couldn't let his brother get hurt.

Tsunade said his name several times, the words falling on deaf ears, and when the Uchiha just ignored her, she finally snapped. Loading her fingers with the slightest amount of chakra, she reached forward, grabbing him by the back of the shirt and flinging him backwards, sending him flying to the opposite side of the room. Itachi glared at her defiantly, looking more frightening, and more like the S-class criminal that he was supposed to be, than she had yet seen him. "Let me pass," he told her icily, his shoulders rising and falling too hard and frequently. "Otherwise, I will not hesitate to Katon through this wall in order to find my brother."

Tsunade didn't doubt it, but still, she forced herself to meet his gaze evenly. "There's no need for such drastic measures," she said quietly. "The ANBU recovered his body from the forest half an hour ago, and we can take you to it."

* * *

_Torture & Interrogations Sector_

* * *

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

The sound was the first thing she heard, and even though she wasn't yet fully conscious, Sakura's features twisted in discomfort, her body twitching and trying to arch up from the cold steel surface she was lying on.

A wave of total, utter confusion washed over her mind. Where _was _she?

It was cold and dark – and she didn't know whether that was really a function of her surroundings or whether it was just because she hadn't yet managed to open her eyes – and…there was a stabbing pain in the crook of her right arm. Something was making a dripping sound that was threatening to drive her crazy. And she had a splitting headache unlike anything she had experienced before.

Something was definitely wrong here. Sakura tried to force herself to think through the pain, but all the memories that came up were visual snatches of green and red.

Green and red. Forest and blood. Blood and…red hair.

_Karin? _

Sakura lay still, screwing her eyes shut and forcing herself to think and remember and regain some sort of control over her mind. And then, a series of images flashed before her eyes, almost too rapidly for her to make sense of them. Ino, Karin, Suigetsu, Jugo, Sasuke, the thrown knife, Karin's mangled arm, Ino and Suigetsu getting ready to fight, the canyon…

The ANBU, grabbing her Sound teammates and incapacitating them – the man who had locked her into an iron grip –

Sakura's entire body stiffened as all of it came back to her. And the words that she had overheard, right before it all went black.

Her eyes flew open, her own chakra flooding up and rebelling against the pressure point hits that the ANBU had attacked her with, and Sakura looked back and forth desperately, so fast that she almost sprained her neck. Her vision was blurry and so indistinct that she could only see lumps of color, but she could make out the cell-like enclosure she was in and the IV in her arm, pumping some kind of clear liquid into her bloodstream, but none of it really registered. There were only a few thoughts running through her mind with a kind of desperate, manic intensity. What happened to Naruto and Sasuke and her other teammates? Had the ANBU actually killed Karin, Suigetsu, and Jugo? And, oh, kami, where were Naruto and Sasuke?

Desperately, Sakura tried to sit up, but it was no use – there were some kinds of steel restraints banded around her wrists and ankles. Every muscle in her body was screaming with agony for some reason. Her head spun, her vision going black, and…it was the IV that was doing this, she realized suddenly. Sedatives. Well, there was no way in hell she could just lie here like a stupid, helpless lump, sedatives or not.

Regardless of the cast-iron grip around her wrist, Sakura jerked her right arm violently, putting all the strength she could into it. The needle jarred in her arm with every frantic movement and finally slid out a little bit, and the pain that caused made tears come to her eyes. But still, it was almost there. Once she got the IV out, she could think clearly and see properly, and then she could find a way to escape this horrible enclosure so she could find her way to Naruto and Sasuke—

And, in the time it took her to squeeze her eyes shut for a fraction of a second and then open them again with renewed determination, she wasn't alone.

The startled gasp had barely made its way free of her throat by the time the white-masked and black-clad faceless ANBU pushed her back down onto the steel operating table with a hand on her chest, and he actually tsked at her, the sound tinny and mechanical through the porcelain of his mask. "Now, now, Haruno," he said detachedly, and through the slits in his mask, Sakura could see the way his eyes zoned in on the dislocated IV. "We can't have that, can we?"

In the next second, he curled his fist around the several-inch long needle and pushed it back into her arm, with more force than strictly necessary. Sakura was sure she had experienced worse physical pain before, but still, in her current weakened state, it felt as if her arm had just been impaled. She gasped again, arching up and seeing white-hot flashes of pain lance through her vision, but regardless of the ANBU's grip and the way the iron restraints seemed to be tightening against her wrists and ankles, she fought against him and the sedatives. "I just want to know where my teammates are," she managed, through gritted teeth. Her speech seemed strangely unsteady. "Naruto Uzumaki, Sasuke Uchiha, and the three shinobi from Sound—"

The ANBU's voice held absolutely no infliction, and at the same time, she felt more of the drugs being pumped into her system, disorienting her even further. The medic in her told her that this was definitely dangerous, healthwise. "It is none of your concern," he intoned.

Sakura literally saw red, losing her temper like she hadn't in what felt like a long time. Naruto and Sasuke and the others could be lost or dead or dying and this bastard was pointlessly drugging her up in order to prevent her from finding them, and—

In the next second, the pink-haired kunoichi summoned all the chakra she could muster to her right wrist, before jerking it upward with all her might. Fragments of iron went flying, and she had just enough time to see the shock in the ANBU officer's eyes before she ripped the IV free of her arm, dislodging the bag of sedatives it was attached to as well, and flinging it against the opposite wall, where the plastic exploded and the liquid flooded everywhere.

Before the ANBU could even react, she lashed out at his face with a punch loaded with enough chakra to break the neck upon impact. But he had years of experience in one of the shinobi world's most competitive organizations, and he flickered out of view in an instant; her fist missing his jaw by a hairsbreadth.

Sakura stilled, ready to throw another strike, but then he re-materialized behind her, his breath warm on her neck and the cold porcelain of his mask brushing against her hair as his fingers closed around her unprotected neck. Before she could throw her elbow back in an instinctive retaliation, she felt the dreadfully familiar hit on the pressure point on the base of her spine.

For the second time in as many hours, Sakura's eyes rolled to the back of her head and she felt her muscles begin to go limp. In the moment before she began to lose consciousness, her eyes slipping shut, she tried futilely to fight it, hating how powerless she was and thinking with every fiber of her being about Naruto and Sasuke and the others. The ANBU caught her in the instant before she collapsed onto the table, and he lowered her down the rest of the way almost gently. "You wouldn't like the answer anyway, Haruno," he commented emotionlessly, his voice strangely distant, and the last emotion that Sakura felt before she blacked out again was one of cold, paralyzing horror.

* * *

Itachi stared at the corner of the wall, forcing himself to focus on the sound of the irritatingly leaky faucet in the corner of Morino Ibiki's office in order to prevent himself from going insane.

Somewhere within this basement of Hokage Tower, his younger brother lay – dead or dying (the thought made his chest constrict horribly), and the officials in charge refused to let Itachi see him without the requisite security clearance. It was only out of respect for the Hokage that the elder Uchiha had refrained from using his bloodline limit on Ibiki and Inoichi Yamanaka in order to forcibly coerce them into leading him to Sasuke. Horrible images of his brother's broken, crumpled body lying on the forest floor, or on an operating table, covered by a white sheet, surfaced again, and Itachi shuddered quietly, his fingers clenching into fists. Pacifistic tendencies aside, if they did not stand aside or give him clearance in the next few minutes, he would not hesitate to use the Tsukuyomi or an equally crippling genjutsu against them.

Tsunade cleared her throat loudly, as if she was reading the restrained tension and aggression in his body language. "Is this really necessary, Ibiki?" The Hokage finally spoke up, shifting from foot to foot, and her high heels made a strange sound against the unevenly hewn stone floors. The edge of impatience in her voice was clear. "Is my word not good enough for you? I vouch for the Uchiha, and I am absolutely sure that I am not under the influence of a particularly sound genjutsu."

"Protocol, Tsunade-sama," Ibiki replied through gritted teeth, his fingers on his partner's slumped shoulder. "Just in case."

Ibiki squeezed Inoichi Yamanaka's shoulder, and the corner of Itachi's left eye twitched with the strain of continually allowing the Yamanaka to sustain the interrogation technique. He knew that he was strong enough to break it, but that wouldn't do if he had any desire to see Sasuke anytime soon. To his credit, Inoichi was a cautious observer, making the terribly invasive procedure a little bit more bearable. It was also a small consolation that the older shinobi had the courtesy to remain strictly within the memories and recollections solely related to the Uchiha massacre, his role in the Akatsuki, and his role corresponding with Jiraiya.

Finally, Itachi felt some of the horrible pressure on his mind relax, and at the same moment that he felt his mind become his own again, he saw Inoichi sit up in the chair, regaining consciousness in the blink of an eye.

Tense silence overcame the small office in the few moments before Inoichi sighed, looking completely stunned. "Clear," the Yamanaka said gruffly, obviously trying to recover his composure. "He's telling the truth on every single count. Now, if you'll excuse me, I still have to see to the others."

Inoichi left quietly, and Ibiki narrowed his eyes at Itachi, apparently still a little bit suspicious. "Very well," he responded grudgingly. "Welcome back, Uchiha."

Itachi brushed aside the pleasantries. Tsunade had refused to tell him anything, and after dragging Ibiki into the examination room and quickly explaining everything to the shocked ANBU member, the three of them had promptly made their way to the Torture and Interrogations Sector in the basement of Hokage Tower. "My brother?"

Ibiki looked toward Tsunade. "You're probably more qualified to explain, Tsunade-sama. You know where they're holding him."

The Hokage nodded briskly. "I'll take it from here."

They left the office, entering the dark, narrow hallways that served as the middle of the Torture and Interrogations Department. Solid iron doors without doorknobs lined the hall, and Itachi felt a sharp sense of foreboding as he quietly followed in Tsunade's footsteps, directing wary glances back and forth. He knew all too well what went on in those rooms, and, without exception, it was brutal. He was glad that Sasuke had been spared that – he could hardly stand the thought of anybody hurting his little brother, regardless of the foolish things he had done, but…at what cost had he been spared? He would rather have Sasuke face torture and interrogation than death or some sort of serious, life-threatening injury.

"Here we are." Tsunade's soft comment broke him out of his reverie, and Itachi looked up sharply. They had stopped in front of one of the nondescript iron doors, and as he watched, she placed her palm to the door. The iron seemed to shudder a little in recognition of her chakra, and the door swung open.

His heart in his throat, Itachi followed Tsunade into the room, and she stepped aside, offering him an unobstructed view of the room's two occupants. They lay motionlessly on two stainless steel operating tables, each hooked up to several machines that filled the room with soft whirring and beeping sounds.

It was Sasuke and Naruto, and both of them were as still and seemingly unresponsive as if they were dead. It hurt, like a knife in the chest, to see Sasuke looking so small and still and helpless; his face a bruised mess of severe scrapes and a large, deep gash cut open over his forehead. He was restrained at the elbows, wrists, hips, and ankles with wide bands of chakra-reinforced steel. Even though the majority of his body was covered by a gray sheet, Itachi could see the unnatural rhythm and deepness of the strangely mechanical way his chest was rising and falling – a quality echoed in Naruto as well.

Itachi crossed the room without realizing it, placing one shaking hand on his younger brother's forehead and carefully brushing the rough hair out of his face. Sasuke looked so serene, and for the first time in years, the elder Uchiha felt his throat close over and his vision blur as he wordlessly looked at the one person he would gladly sacrifice his life for; the little brother who he loved more than anything else in the world. He had done so much for Sasuke over the years, yes, but looking at him like this was so painful – he would readily have taken every single injury that Naruto had inflicted on Sasuke onto himself.

The most sickening thing of all was that this was his entire fault. It was his fault that Sasuke had gotten so badly hurt – his fault that Sasuke had defected from Konoha and set himself on such a dark, twisted path in the first place. Had what Sakura murmured to him, one night when she had been half-asleep, been true? _I understand why you did it, Itachi – but if you had just made provisions to tell Sasuke the truth somehow, when he was old enough to understand, or not used that particular genjutsu on him…he would have been so much less self-destructive. _

Everything Itachi had ever done, right from the beginning, had been for the sole reason of keeping Sasuke safe. But he was realizing now that his actions had caused Sasuke to compromise his life in ways that he had never imagined. He had come within an inch of being possessed by Orochimaru, and now, it appeared that he had narrowly evaded death at the hands of his former teammate.

"What happened?" Itachi asked, and despite his best efforts, he couldn't mask how his voice caught in his throat on the last syllable.

He sensed Tsunade approaching and standing beside him, looking down at Sasuke and simultaneously scanning a clipboard with his vital stats recorded on it. "Naruto's condition is much the same," she explained. "From what Sai reported to me – he was the first one to actually find these two, although he wasn't stupid enough to interfere. He called for reinforcements, but the time they got there, the situation had already deteriorated. Sasuke was in the middle of the forest bordering Konoha, heading east – we think that he was going to bide his time until nightfall and then mount a massive attack, no holds barred, no attempt at being subtle and infiltrating the village first, on Konoha. Naruto intercepted and confronted him, saying something along the lines of that he would bring Sasuke back to Konoha on peaceful terms or die trying…and it appears that your brother took him at face value on that statement. Sasuke attacked to kill, and Naruto defended himself and tried to subdue Sasuke, trying to knock him into unconsciousness so he could take him back to Konoha."

Itachi and Tsunade looked over at Naruto's bed at the same time. The blond chunin was absolutely still; his face not as battered, but Itachi could see the numerous layers of bandages covering his arms and torso from underneath the sheets, and he closed his eyes briefly, unable to deal with the emotions flooding him. The foremost was shame. How had his own younger brother become like this?

It really was his fault that Sasuke had degenerated into somebody so viciously power-hungry, ruthless, and utterly driven by revenge, that he would attempt to kill his own teammate – a boy who had been trying to do the decent thing. Most other shinobi, teammate or not, would have given up on Sasuke the second he defected from the village; if not then, the second he attempted to attack Konoha.

"They beat each other to within an inch of their respective lives," Tsunade said, her forehead creasing in a frown. "Sasuke attacked Naruto with killing intent, which was how most of Naruto's injuries were sustained, and Naruto had to fight back, otherwise he would have died after the first stab wound – Sasuke missed his heart by a few inches, it seems, but he was trying to finish the job when Naruto retaliated." She paused briefly, looking down at Sasuke's chest wound. "It seems that when the Chidori and the Rasengan clash, and the Rasengan user is fueled by the rapidly manifesting rage of the Kyuubi…even the Chidori can't hold up against that. Sasuke collapsed first, due to chakra exhaustion and the damage of the Rasengan and Naruto's strikes, and Naruto tried to pick him up and carry him back to Konoha, but he collapsed as well, as a result of all that blood loss. He almost bled out by the time Kakashi got to him."

Itachi watched the artificial, mechanical breathing induced by the machines hooked up to both Naruto and Sasuke for a few moments, before he turned away, unable to bear it. It seemed that both of them had sustained serious injuries to the lungs and heart, and he knew the critical nature of those injures – especially if it was bad enough that they weren't able to breathe on their own, and were only being kept alive by the machines. "Are they going to recover?"

"Yes," Tsunade replied, after a few moments, and she gently nudged him aside, placing one chakra-covered hand on Sasuke's chest, and then slowly moving it upward; scanning for something he couldn't see. "Eventually. I'm going to perform surgery on them today to repair the extensive damage that was done to both of them. According to the attending ANBU who brought him in, Naruto's stab wound was particularly…" she paused, trying to word things delicately, but lacking any delicate adjective that could convey the true meaning of it. "…Messy."

Itachi winced, while Tsunade moved her hand to rest on Sasuke's bruised, cut forehead, frowning down at it.

"After healing, that's going to take three weeks of recuperation, at least. Sasuke sustained fairly severe head trauma from the impact of the Rasengan – that collided with his chest, causing significant damage to the lungs and the issues that you see here – which knocked him back several meters and right into the trunk of a tree. It's going to take a more in-depth examination than this, but I don't detect any significant brain damage right now." She looked up at him seriously. "They both need surgery to repair the severe damage to their lungs and other organs, and I'll be performing those within the next two hours – as soon as I consult the medics who admitted them. After that, they should both be on their feet – but _not _exerting themselves in any possible way other than walking very short distances – within the next two to three days."

Despite his best efforts to remain calm, all the breath left Itachi's body in a long sigh, and he looked away, slightly ashamed of his loss of composure. Still, his hand sought Sasuke's cold, unresponsive one, and he grasped it for a few long moments, unable to understand the mixed sorrow and relief that coursed through his veins.

It hurt Itachi terribly to imagine that his younger brother had been fully ready to mount a potentially destructive and lethal attack on Konoha…doing the very thing that he had tried so hard to avert, by reporting his family's impending coup to the Third Hokage. Not to mention the fact that Sasuke had readily abandoned his three injured teammates _and _Sakura, his so-called girlfriend, when the four of them had been seriously threatened by Konoha's ANBU. All in all, Sasuke had done a number of incomprehensibly foolish and downright reprehensible things in the past years; actions that he would have condemned in anybody else. And maybe it made him a hypocrite, but even after all that, part of him still wanted to fold his little brother in his arms and hug him with the kind of simple affection Sasuke had always shown him when they had been young.

Perhaps that was the meaning of the love one could have for a sibling. That, even if the sibling did something horribly wrong, they would always be loved and forgiven.

"You do understand that we'll have to treat him as a hostile force when he comes to," Tsunade spoke up quietly, crossing her arms over her chest and regarding Sasuke evenly, before glancing over at Itachi. "There will be criminal charges, and there are going to be those on the council – those with ulterior motives, as you well know – who'll want to sentence him to death or lifetime imprisonment for this. Probably the former. He's done the worst thing he could do – handed them some solid ammunition that they can feasibly run with."

Itachi's heartbeat quickened at the mere thought of Danzou, Koharu, and Homura plotting his younger brother's death, and he stepped one pace backwards, narrowing his eyes. They were the only three people, aside from his own father and the council of clan elders, that he blamed for the massacre. He had matured beyond the thoughts he'd once had of taking revenge on him for his own behalf – but if they even attempted to harm Sasuke in any way—

"Relax, Uchiha," Tsunade cut in, with a sigh. "Don't get that _I'm-going-to-earn-my-S-class-criminal-status _look around me. All you have to do is breathe wrong and Ibiki will throw you into a cell before you can even exhale again. No matter what they try to pull, I won't order an execution. Sasuke hasn't done anything worthy of it…yet." She scowled down at the unconscious Uchiha. "It was a good thing that Sakura stopped things when she did, though. Otherwise they would already be preparing the lethal injection, and I wouldn't be inclined to stop them."

Already seeing where the Hokage was going with this, Itachi inclined his head soberly. "You're not going to let Sasuke be executed…on what conditions?"

Tsunade sighed, looking troubled. "If and only ifhe plays nicely. He did get rid of Orochimaru, after all, and that bastard murdered the Third Hokage – which gives Sasuke some points. Besides, outside of those three, I don't think anybody wants to contemplate the possibility of…allowing the Uchiha bloodline to become compromised, for Konoha's own selfish interests. Still, we could get around that by imprisoning him for life, but that's if he refuses to cooperate."

Itachi noted the word choice; the way she had paused a moment and obviously refrained from saying that the Uchiha bloodline would go extinct_. _It might have been an innocuous turn of phrase, but stupidly, irrationally, it made the briefest flare of hope leap in his chest.

"Sasuke could be interrogated for any valuable information, and then be placed on probation and house arrest, and will likely have a complete S-ranked chakra-sealing jutsu placed on him for a period of at least a year. Those will be the measures that will be taken at the very least," she added, as an afterthought, and then she frowned again. "Ibiki will probably commission Inoichi to use one of the Yamanaka's specialized interrogation techniques on Sasuke every few weeks, as he did for you just now, though. If Sasuke has a single threatening thought toward Konoha, he'll be imprisoned. This is a lenient proposal, actually – again, if Sasuke is inclined to cooperate."

Itachi closed his eyes for a moment, letting it all sink in, and when he opened them again, he found Tsunade staring pensively at his younger brother. "Why are you doing this?" he asked her, completely seriously, in a rare moment of forthrightness. No other Hokage would be inclined to be so merciful. Stepping outside of his personal interest in this, if he were an outside observer, it would almost seem foolish of her.

Tsunade glanced over at him, her brown eyes absolutely unreadable. "My reasons are none of your business, Uchiha."

With one last look at Naruto and Sasuke, she walked over the door, her high heels clacking against the stone floor, before throwing another glance back at him. "I intend to check in on Sasuke's team and Sakura. They're all still out, and I don't want Sakura interrogated by anybody besides Inoichi, because at least he can use the Mind-Body Switch to do it – it's mentally invasive, but not physically painful, like the others can be. If you want to stay here—"

The mention of Sakura's name made Itachi's shoulders tense anew; he wanted to stay at Sasuke's side, but…

For once in his life, he hovered indecisively for a split second, before finally looking down at Sasuke again. Distantly, he heard Tsunade assuring him that he wouldn't even begin to regain consciousness for a long time, but he reached down and squeezed Sasuke's hand briefly. He couldn't help but apologize mentally to his younger brother. For what exactly, he didn't know; maybe for failing to tell him the truth when it would have been prudent and potentially preventing him from the darker things he had done in pursuit of revenge; maybe for leaving his side in order to visit Sakura, the girl whom Sasuke supposedly cared for; maybe for everything whatsoever – before joining the Hokage at the door.

"The medics should be along to check on them in another half hour or so," Tsunade muttered distractedly as she closed the door to Sasuke and Naruto's room, glancing at the chart posted on the iron surface. "Now…"

Itachi couldn't help but feel severely out of place as he followed her down the hall again. He was still a little dizzy from the sedatives, and seeing Sasuke again under these circumstances had been more emotionally rattling than he liked to admit. He had been feeling strangely off balance since early this morning, as soon as he had crossed the borders into his former home. Regardless of the fact that the heads of this department and likely their immediate subordinates had been notified of his true loyalties, he couldn't shake the feeling that any moment now, an ANBU would materialize from the shadows and impale him with a katana while his guard was down…and then continue on to do the same thing to Sasuke while his younger brother was so defenseless.

He nearly collided with Tsunade's back when she stopped dead at an open door. "Use a genjutsu for this," she ordered quietly. "Sasuke's teammates were deposited here, and Ino Yamanaka, Ibiki's apprentice, dealt with the intelligence-gathering. Inoichi wouldn't have informed her about your presence and loyalties yet, and I don't want her to get too much of a shock."

Itachi inclined his head in understanding, and with one effortless pulse of chakra, his hair and eyes both transformed into an unremarkable shade of brown, unconsciously echoing Sakura's earlier genjutsu. Tsunade nodded, and stepped across the threshold to the room with a firm knock on the door to signify her presence, and slightly warily, the elder Uchiha followed.

This room was similar to the other one, except that there were three operating tables crammed into the relatively small space, each of them with one person strapped onto them. Every one of the three young shinobi were heavily restrained, like Sasuke and Naruto, but even a moment's observation told Itachi that they weren't nearly as badly injured. There was a red-haired kunoichi with her upper right arm heavily bandaged, but she had the only visible injuries out of the group. On her left side was an impossibly tall young man – a good several inches of his legs actually dangled off the long table – with spiky orange hair, similar in appearance to Pein's, and on her right was another shinobi whose appearance made Itachi's eyes widen ever so slightly. Another oddly shark-like Mist-nin…just like Kisame. It was irrational, but it startled him, how young these three looked – sixteen or seventeen, at most. He didn't know why he was expecting any different, but it seemed even more irresponsible and heartless of Sasuke, to lead them into a situation where all three could have lost their lives.

Tsunade cleared her throat, and Itachi's gaze jumped to the last occupant of the room, who he had previously not noticed, due to the fact that she was sitting in a gray folding chair and slumped motionlessly onto a matching table. When the kunoichi remained unresponsive, Tsunade sighed regretfully. "The Yamanaka are wonderful at this particular job, but separating them from the Nara and the Akimichi has its drawbacks."

She crossed the room in a few steps, gently taking hold of the girl's shoulder – and at the same instant, the orange-haired shinobi raised his head a few inches off the table, his eyes flying open. It was bewildering, to say the least, and even though Itachi recognized the Mind-Body Switch technique when he saw it, he still took one step backward.

"I'm so sorry, Tsunade-sama!" the Sound shinobi apologized, in a deep, masculine voice very different from the form of the person controlling him. "I was just finishing up – I'll be out in a second."

In the next instant, the Sound shinobi's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed back down onto the table with a solid _thunk, _and simultaneously, the kunoichi at the table jumped up and bowed to the Hokage respectfully.

For his part, despite the gravity of the situation, Itachi had to fight the urge to cringe backward as the blonde kunoichi straightened. Between the matching hair and eye colors, and even the hairstyle, she held an uncanny resemblance to Deidara. It was highly disturbing.

"Don't mind my visitor, Ino," Tsunade said calmly, noticing how the younger kunoichi was eyeing Itachi suspiciously. "He's just an impartial observer. Your report?"

Itachi listened, curious to know whom exactly Sakura and his brother had spent the past three years with, and Ino's gaze snapped back to Tsunade. "Yes, Tsunade-sama." She indicated the shark-looking shinobi with one sweep of her arm, a somewhat distasteful expression sliding over her face. "This is Suigetsu Hozuki. Mist-nin captured by Orochimaru, but held no real loyalty to him. He's highly skilled – Sasuke thinks that he's the reincarnation of some guy named Zabuza, or something. He's a bit of a sadist when provoked, but he holds no real hostility to anybody or anything in particular, including Konoha. He just follows Sasuke's orders because he and the others have spent the past few years being instilled with the idea that Sasuke is the leader and the most skilled."

"Hmm," Tsunade commented, tapping her pen against the side of her chin contemplatively. "Any potential?"

Ino smirked. "Even when the ANBU were on the verge of taking him down, he still thought that it would be_, _and I quote, _freaking sweet _to get to have one of those katana and be a member of something so powerful, elite, and dangerous. I think he said he'd sell his soul for just the chance to hold the sword. Besides, when he regained consciousness, he only freaked out when he saw one of the medics near the redhead – and when he saw that they were just changing her bandages and not hurting her, he totally relaxed and went back under without a fight."

"How sweet," the Hokage muttered dryly. "Next?"

"Karin Sato," Ino responded, making a face. "She's the only one who was loyal to Orochimaru, but after she realized that Orochimaru ordered Sakura's death, she stood back and let Sasuke kill him without a fight. She has some kind of weird healing ability, not like yours, but still fairly strong. More importantly…I hate to admit this, but she's the best and strongest tracker that I've ever seen. It's totally unbelievable, the things she can do with chakra-sensing. Like Suigetsu, she has no particular hostility toward the village itself – she just goes along with what Sasuke says." She jerked a thumb toward the kunoichi's bandaged arm. "She almost lost that, you know. When she comes to, she wants to strangle me to death, but after that, she'll have all the aggression to Konoha shinobi out of her system too."

Tsunade smiled slightly. "Regarding the chakra-sensing and tracking…interesting. The last one?"

"Uhh," Ino replied, her professionalism slipping momentarily, and Itachi followed her perplexed gaze over to the unnaturally tall shinobi. He could tell that there was something off about him and his chakra, and a few moments of investigation on his own traced the source to a small mark on the back of where his neck met his shoulder. A slight frown touched the corners of his mouth. It was a curse seal that was causing the divergent chakras…the strange mix between calm and unassuming, and dark and volatile. It was an unusual medical condition, a genetic anomaly brought on due to the bottleneck effect in certain populations. He had read about it once, and it actually caused physical and mental transformations.

Meanwhile, Ino finished explaining the phenomenon to Tsunade, who was nodding her head in understanding. "He's the only one who I…" Ino fidgeted somewhat. "Who I think is really out of place. He seems more peaceful and unassuming and calm than the others. I don't even think he would have become a shinobi if he had a choice. He just wants a cure to what makes him the way he is – that's it."

Tsunade wrote a few notes on her clipboard, obviously thinking hard about it. "That phenomenon merits further exploration, as does the curse seal," she said, half to herself. "Your opinion, Ino?"

"They'll all stay if Sasuke does," the kunoichi replied promptly. "They're deathly loyal to him, and despite the fact that they're Sound, to each other. None of them are opposed to settling down in a village and doing some real shinobi work at all. And," – she sighed, looking as if it was killing her to admit it – "they're not _bad _people. Just stupidly loyal in that if Sasuke told them to jump off a cliff or go brutally slaughter a bunch of schoolchildren, they'd do it. Or maybe not the latter." She eyed the Hokage, looking unabashedly curious. "Tsunade-sama, how's Sakura? I kept trying to tell Kakashi that she was totally innocent, but he took her out anyway, and Dad says they brought her in with the rest of them…"

"My observer and I are on our way to find that out right now. I'm sure that she's doing well, but still sedated—"

Ino practically bounced on the heels of her feet, looking impatient. "Could I possibly come with you?"

"I'm not sure that would be a good idea," Tsunade responded gently. "Ibiki would blame me for causing a disruption if you don't finish your notes and make your report to him as soon as possible. You can visit Sakura as soon as you're done with that."

Ino nodded and bowed again, and they left, Itachi's head spinning slightly with the influx of new information he had just received. He felt strangely impatient, which was uncharacteristic for him, but seeing so many unconscious, severely injured young shinobi…he just wanted to make sure that Sakura was all right. He didn't want her to regain consciousness alone and confused, in such a forbidding, unfamiliar setting, being restrained and treated like a criminal.

Sakura's room was apparently right across the hall, and he and Tsunade nearly collided with Ibiki and Inoichi as they left. Ibiki nodded curtly at the two of them. "She's clear as well," he said in an undertone, as he passed by. "We had to keep the wrist restraints on and sedate her again because she regained consciousness briefly and almost broke someone's jaw when he wouldn't tell her where her teammates were. She had no idea that the younger Uchiha was actually going to attempt an attack."

"As I said at the beginning," Tsunade replied smugly. "I have information about the others, and a suggestion regarding Sasuke Uchiha, Ibiki – I'll give you your privacy, then," she added under her breath, to Itachi. "Thank me later."

She walked off with Ibiki, and after a moment of looking after them, warily speculating about how Ibiki would react to Tsunade's proposition as to how to deal with his younger brother, Itachi slipped into the room, quietly shutting the solid iron door behind him and crossing over to the table in a few steps.

Sakura seemed to be unconscious, but her forehead was still pinched in a frown; her expression one of obvious distress. Much as he had done to Sasuke several minutes ago, Itachi reached out carefully, tenderly smoothing one hand over her brow and brushing his fingers into her soft, tangled pink hair. As strange as it seemed, he had never really observed her sleep before and seen her features in such total rest, even though they had spent the past few months in each other's company. Like Sasuke, Sakura looked all too young and vulnerable like this. But still, she was whole and healthy and hadn't appeared to have been hurt in the earlier conflict or by the ANBU, and that was enough to make his shoulders relax fractionally.

After a few moments, Itachi moved his hand from her forehead to the iron bands around her wrists. The skin there was darkly bruised, enough to make him wince a little, and in the same instant, his eyes began to bleed from gray to red. He had seen Sakura using her chakra scalpels before, and even though she always scowled at him whenever he had the Sharingan engaged and muttered something under her breath about his bloodline limit being a _'dirty plagiarizer_', the younger kunoichi was a wealth of unusual, unprecedented skills, and he couldn't help but be fascinated. Besides, he'd had a feeling that this one had the potential to be especially useful.

Carefully, Itachi used the chakra scalpels to cut away the iron restraints around her wrist, before wrapping his hands around and massaging them, trying to restore proper blood circulation. Part of him was appalled that she had placed herself in the midst of such a potentially dangerous situation, but at the same time, if Sakura hadn't done what she had, it was likely that Sasuke's punishment would have been a lot more severe.

He continued massaging her wrists, lost in his own thoughts, but the steady, repetitive, and vaguely comforting feeling began to register in Sakura's mind, drifting toward her through the hazy fog that seemed to permeate it. Somewhere deep down, she realized that it was hands touching her and not the painful iron restraints, and that meant that whoever was in here with her definitely wasn't an ANBU—

Sakura struggled to regain consciousness, and when she finally managed to force her eyes open for the briefest of moments, she tilted her head, confused and disoriented. Itachi patted her hand, saying her name quietly; unsure of whether she was fully conscious or not, but in the next second, he saw the expression in her eyes undergo an irrational, abrupt transformation from groggy and confused to frantic, full-out panic. "Itachi," she blurted, pushing herself up on her trembling arms into a sitting position, and her head spun as mercilessly as it had before, but this time, she wasn't going to let anything hold her back from finding them. She didn't even think to question how or why he had gotten in here. "I'm so relieved you're here – we have to find Naruto and Sasuke and the others _right now; _I think something awful's happened to them, and—"

Her voice cracked, and her body gave out from the strain of trying to push itself into doing too much too fast after such a long time in sedation; it was only the gentle support of Itachi's hands that prevented her from falling flat on her face as she tried to struggle off the operating table. Still, Sakura scowled, trying to push him away with chakra-loaded hands. "We have to go _now_!"

She couldn't understand why he wasn't responding with as much urgency as he should, but Itachi kept her from leaving the table with his hands on her hips, lightly holding her in place. He looked strangely tired and worn; the lines under his eyes more pronounced, and the expression on his face was so drained and weary that Sakura couldn't help but assume the worst – that maybe Tsunade had brought him in here because the ANBU had killed Sasuke, and he was coming in here to break the news to her—

The color drained from her face, but Itachi spoke hastily, preempting her reaction. "It's all right," he tried to assure her, even though it most decidedly wasn't. "Naruto and Sasuke and the Sound shinobi are all alive. They are all being held in nearby cells, and I do not think they will be harmed."

Sakura caught her breath, startled, but then all of it left her body in a long, broken sigh, as she finally succumbed to her horrible, splitting headache, leaning forward and resting her forehead against Itachi's shoulder. Her heart was beating way too fast out of the mix of tension, adrenaline, and relief, and it took her a few moments to catch her breath enough to speak. "They're okay?"

Itachi began to say something, but stopped abruptly. His moment of hesitation was enough to alarm her, and Sakura pulled back, fixing him with her sharp, anxious gaze. "They are okay, right?" she repeated insistently.

Itachi knew that there was a right way and a wrong way to tell her this, but this kind of verbal finesse and tact under such high pressure had never been his strong point. He informed her about Naruto and Sasuke's condition as thoroughly yet concisely as he could, but at the end of the few short sentences, Sakura stared at him, obviously horrified, and looking like she had just been slapped in the face.

Her thought process felt like it had slowed down to about the speed of molasses, and regardless of the concern that she could see in Itachi's expression, she leaned forward, burying her face in her hands. It was all starting to sink in now, and she had never felt so disgusted by her own actions in her life. Naruto had almost _died. _Sasuke had attacked him with lethal intent, and he seriously considered attacking and killing other innocent people like that too. Itachi had been right – she never should have told him that they were coming here. She shouldn't have trusted him, and she had been a complete idiot to do so. Because of her own foolishness, Naruto and so many other people in her home could have lost their lives. She was a monster, to have put them in danger like this.

And how could _he_? How could Sasuke have attacked Naruto? _Their _happy-go-lucky, sweet, determined, stubborn, relentlessly optimistic, devoted, Naruto? Their first teammate…their oldest shared friend. The boy who they had learned to be a shinobi with, and whom, three years ago, they had been ready to protect with their lives? And Sasuke had really tried to kill him? And kill kami knew how many other people, too…

Somewhere deep down, Sakura understood that this was petty of her, considering the circumstances, but she felt more deeply, personally betrayed by Sasuke's actions today than anything else he had ever done to her. Who was he, anyway? Not even the Sasuke-kun she knew in Sound would have been capable of something as awful as this.

It was stupid and it wouldn't solve anything, but Sakura couldn't fully repress the choked, heartbroken sob that threatened to fight its way free of her throat, and she turned away awkwardly, trying to hide her face. She felt Itachi lightly touching her knee; he was obviously uncomfortable and out of his depth in such an emotional situation, and he likely felt all the disappointment in Sasuke's actions that she did. Regardless, she wrapped her arms around Itachi's neck, embracing him tightly and turning her face against his neck, by now too overwhelmed to worry about her own pride.

It took a few moments, but he reciprocated the embrace, gently stroking her back and holding her close. In response to the obviously tender actions, Sakura closed her eyes tightly, trying and failing to keep the hot tears from slipping past her eyelids. "Don't blame yourself, Sakura," Itachi chided, although she could hear the hollow quality in his voice.

It made her laugh bitterly. "Don't be a hypocrite, Itachi."

He held her until she got control herself again, and when Sakura finally pulled back, she watched him for a minute, looking incomprehensibly sorrowful. Itachi flinched backwards when she reached out and touched his face, trailing her fingertips lightly from his left eye downward, and all too suddenly, her eyes blazed with anger and began to brim with tears at the same time. "I hate him," she said vehemently. "I hate him _so much. _I never want anything to do with him ever again."

Itachi stiffened defensively, taking one step backwards. It was saddening, in a way, to see her like this, and his tone was soft and as patient and understanding as it could be under these circumstances. "You don't mean that, Sakura."

Sakura kept watching him with her over-bright eyes, looking infuriated and strangely vulnerable. "Yes, I do."

She didn't want to do this, because ever since that fateful night three years ago, she had sworn not to lay her heart as bare to anybody else and make herself so vulnerable and so weak ever again. But still, she reached out, taking Itachi's hand in hers and tangling their fingers together. He had come to mean so much to her, and had made her see how mistaken she had been to ever think that she had loved Sasuke. "Don't ever leave me," the pink-haired kunoichi said quietly, looking down at their entwined hands. "Please."

Itachi knew not to take the request at face value, but it still made his heart constrict a little bit. As much as he wanted to acquiesce to Sakura's wishes, that would be naïve. Circumstances had just become more complicated than they had ever been before. Sasuke was facing emergency surgery and, when he recovered from his critical wounds, criminal charges. There was a very real possibility that he would refuse to cooperate and continue trying to violently retaliate at Konoha, at cost to his own personal safety. Not only that, but due to all this confusion, Itachi had no idea as to the conclusions that Tsunade had arrived at after examining _him…_and whether he would have the time to try and set things right_. _

And still, even looking at the best-case scenario in which Tsunade miraculously cured him and he survived (a scenario that Itachi refused to let himself think about, for fears of letting himself dare to hope), the idea that he, Sakura, Sasuke, and Konoha could ever coexist peacefully was idealistic, at best, and fatally asinine; setting things up for a painful conflict, at worst.

He didn't want to do this, because he didn't believe in false promises and false hope and anything like that, but for once, Itachi spoke without necessarily thinking everything through. "I will not," he responded seriously, as if he had any power over it, holding her hand a little tighter. Maybe it was foolish of him, but in that instant, all he knew was that, regardless of whether it was destined or not, he wanted – no, needed – to be there for Sakura…and for Sasuke – the people that he loved. And he would, no matter what it took. "I promise."

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

:) I hope this was a worthwhile read for everybody. I decided to give my lovely editor SwiftKick a break, as she may be busy with life and writing her own kickass-awesome fics (which you should all go read, because they're, well, kickass and awesome!) right now and I don't want to bother her. I read this over a few times, but I apologize in advance for any typos that you might find.

Also, a quick note, just in case: to those who might not be aware, over the past year, my mother has suffered from numerous serious health problems, including a fairly lengthy hospitalization last spring and summer. She is scheduled to have a major surgery intended to hopefully get her body back on track for good and up to long-term normalcy on March 3, two weeks from now. I will try my gosh-darned best, but what with school and all, I'm not one hundred percent sure that I will have another chapter up before she goes into the hospital again.

I am really, really hopeful that the surgery will go off without complications and she will be back home in a week. Just in case things don't work out so quickly, though…I humbly ask for a little bit of patience. The next couple of weeks leading up to March 3 and the time after that as she recovers is really going to be a stressful and trying time for my parents and I. I'll try my best to manage everything in a timely manner, though.

As always, I love hearing what you guys have to say. Any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :)


	16. Revelations

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was incredible enough to leave a review. :)_

_Chapter Sixteen: Revelations_

* * *

_One. Two. Three. Four._

Half-asleep as she was, Sakura closed her eyes a little tighter and snuggled close against Itachi's chest, absentmindedly counting the gentle strokes of his hand down her back. It was so rare that they did anything as…domestic…as this. He was probably still drowsy enough to not have picked up on the fact that she wasn't fully asleep, as he wouldn't have indulged in the affectionate gesture if he had any idea that she actually realized what he was doing.

Again. _One. Two. Three. Four._

Strangely, the last word lingered in her mind longer than it should, and then Sakura's eyes snapped wide open. _Four. _The number repeated in her mind insistently, letting its significance be known. _Four, four, four—_

She raised herself up off the bed on one shaky elbow, dazedly looking at the nearby window. Through the edge not entirely shielded by the curtains, she could see the sun just beginning to rise. Sakura brought her hands to her eyes, rubbing the residual vestiges of sleep out of them, and as she sat up fully, she could feel the way her heartbeat was already starting to significantly quicken in anticipation.

It had been four days since her and Itachi's arrival in Konoha and Sasuke's failed attack on the village…the one that had left both Naruto and Sasuke almost fatally wounded, and could have conceivably led to Ino, Karin, Suigetsu, and Jugo's – not to mention countless other innocent Konoha shinobi's – deaths as well.

Sakura closed her eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath as she rested her head in her hands for a moment. The memory of what Itachi had said to her regarding Naruto and Sasuke's medical situation floated back, making her shudder just as much as it had the first time. In an attempt to calm herself, she turned back, looking down at him. Itachi was lying on his side, curled into himself somewhat, and once he lacked her to hold on to, his fingers had tightened into a white-knuckled fist around the sheets. The combination of the unusual pose with the disarrayed way his long hair fell over his face made him look unsettlingly vulnerable, and even in sleep, she could see the strain that seemed to have permanently engraved itself onto his handsome features. He'd woken up a few hours ago, convulsing due to a particularly violent and bloody coughing fit. It had been worse than she had heard in a long time, and even now, it took an effort to restrain herself from reaching out and placing a compassionate hand on his chest.

Considering the critical nature of the injuries Naruto and Sasuke had inflicted on each other, Itachi had told Tsunade-sama that he refused to take up her time with his medical problems until both of them had been operated on, gone through recovery, and were fully on their feet again. Itachi had given Tsunade permission to perform surgery on Naruto first, considering the extensive heart and lung trauma that he had sustained through Sasuke's katana attack and subsequent Chidori.

Naruto had been operated on four days ago. Sasuke, three. While each of them had been in the operating room, she and Itachi had waited in the deserted outer chambers. He had silently wiped away her involuntary tears when the weary, drained-looking Tsunade had stepped outside and informed them that Naruto would make a full recovery with no lasting damage in a matter of days. She had done the same for him when he received similar news regarding Sasuke.

She and Itachi hadn't been allowed to see them since, as they both had some serious recuperation to do. Today was the day that Naruto and Sasuke would actually be dismissed from the Intensive Care Unit and allowed back on their feet.

…Well, Naruto would, at least. From what Itachi had told her, Sasuke would be taken into custody by ANBU for interrogation the moment that he was able to stand again, and the thought of that was sickening in itself. Sakura was still furious with him, but at the same time, she was afraid for him. Itachi said that if Sasuke refused to cooperate with Konoha's strict conditions, or if he somehow deceived them and continued trying to plot revenge on Konoha from the inside, he would likely be imprisoned for life – if the members of Tsunade's council couldn't find a way to have him executed instead.

The mere idea of that made her close her eyes tightly, and it took Sakura a few moments to realize that her entire body was shaking. She didn't love him like she once had, but he didn't deserve to die for what he had done.

She would have liked to think that Sasuke had the self-preservation skills – if not the sense of common decency and loyalty to his older brother, at least – to go along with Konoha's plan to have him periodically interrogated and subsequently placed on probation and house arrest with his chakra sealed. But looking at it completely honestly and objectively…Sakura wasn't sure if he did. She had thought telling Sasuke the truth about Itachi would have calmed him down and given him some kind of peace; eliminating that all-consuming, never-ceasing thirst for revenge.

Instead, she had created an entirely different kind of monster. Before, Sasuke had just been focused on killing Itachi – but he wasn't one to use needless violence when it could be avoided. Now, Sasuke had been willing to kill his best friend and so many other innocent people, _and _potentially sacrifice his three loyal teammates and friends in the process of doing so. It was hard to comprehend how the boy she had once loved so much had turned into this. Sakura couldn't handle the thought of Sasuke potentially being imprisoned for life, or worse, killed – but at the same time, she feared that he was a danger to himself and those around him.

Her heart constricted a little, as she carefully untangled herself from the blankets and stood up. If not for any other reason to be optimistic, though…it would just break Itachi's heart if anything like that happened to him – even more than the disappointment, shame and hurt that Sasuke's own actions had already caused him.

She knew that the earlier coughing fit had really taken it out of him, so Sakura retreated to the bathroom quietly, getting ready as quickly as she could. Tsunade-sama had given her and Itachi one of the apartments in an otherwise vacant complex intended to house visiting shinobi from other villages. It was elegantly furnished and quite comfortable, and even though she had just been there for four days, it felt like home already, in a way Sound had never been. It was so wonderful to look out the window and see Hokage Mountain and the forests and distant grassy fields of the training grounds she had spent her days as a genin. Not to mention that more than a small part of her very much enjoyed sharing the space with Itachi.

Hair still somewhat damp from her shower, Sakura stepped out of the bathroom, tugging the zipper on her new sleeveless red top upward and re-checking the buckles on the short split skirt that she wore over her skintight black shorts. The overjoyed Ino had dragged her out to the kunoichi outfitting stores yesterday, citing the fact that the weather was warming up for spring as an adequate reason to go shopping for new outfits. Normally, this would have made her nothing but happy. Spring was her favorite season – great weather, the blooming of the pretty pink trees that were her namesake; not to mention her rapidly impending birthday, but this year…

Sakura stopped, looking down at the still-asleep Itachi as she felt her throat tighten. This year, the onset of spring only meant that he was that much closer to—

Her mind shut down immediately, refusing to complete the sentence. No. She had always been optimistic regarding Itachi's prognosis, and that couldn't change, regardless of how stressed and unhappy she was over the whole Sasuke situation. Now that Naruto and Sasuke had been sufficiently healed, Itachi could see Tsunade-sama again, and she would heal him too. It might take several sessions, but in the end, he would be fine. And maybe, just maybe, their little interlude here over the past four days could continue into the future. The thought made a small, tentative smile tug at the edges of Sakura's lips. She would like that. This was the first time that she was really allowing herself to consciously consider it and let herself hope – but she had the feeling that the hope wasn't ill-founded.

Even though she knew that Itachi would probably want to see Sasuke as soon as possible, Sakura couldn't bring herself to wake him after the extraordinarily rough night he'd had. Taking a piece of memo paper from the nightstand, she wrote him a small note telling him where she had gone and placed it next to him on her pillow, so it would be the first thing he saw when he woke up.

Their apartment was on the top floor, so after a bracing run down ten long flights of stairs, Sakura emerged into the bright sunlight, and despite her sobering thoughts of earlier that morning, she broke into a large smile upon seeing who was waiting for her, clutching two cans of coffee. "Forehead Girl!" Ino greeted cheerfully, pressing one can into her outstretched hands. "Kami, Sakura. It took you long enough. What were you doing all this time – trying to comb your bangs carefully so they could try to mask that comically disproportionate billboard brow of yours?"

Sakura rolled her eyes as they started walking. "Yeah, it takes me forever," she replied sarcastically, "but at least I don't spend half an hour caking an entire compact of peach-toned foundation onto my face to mask my naturally pink, piggy complexion."

The usual pleasantries exchanged, the two kunoichi smiled at each other as they sipped their coffees. "So," Sakura said thickly, swallowing the too-hot and overwhelmingly vanilla-flavored liquid. "Do you have any real information on Karin, Suigetsu, and Jugo yet?"

The three Sound shinobi, as their interrogations had all come up clear, had all been allowed to regain consciousness after the first day of captivity. When asked upon regaining consciousness, they had all said that they were entirely willing to stay within Konoha and work as legitimate Konoha shinobi – as long as that was what Sasuke was doing. The idea of that made Sakura overwhelmingly happy (regardless of the fact that she was back in her childhood home, it just wouldn't be right if they weren't there), and she had vouched for them in front of Tsunade. Ibiki, however, had insisted that before the idea was given serious consideration, all three of them had to undergo thorough and rigorous psychiatric evaluations.

In response to her question, Ino rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, allowing a small huff of displeasure to escape her lips as she gave Sakura a sidelong glance. Even though she knew what her best friend was thinking, the pink-haired kunoichi met her gaze evenly, unwilling to give an inch.

Her real reunion with Ino had been about an hour after she regained consciousness, and after Itachi had left to discuss Sasuke with Ibiki and Tsunade. Sakura had gone looking for her, unsure of what to say, and when they finally ran into each other, Ino had nearly broken her ribs with the strength of her hug, while she burst out in tears and simultaneously threatened to kick her ass for being coldhearted enough to lie to her. It had been emotional, on both their parts, and afterward, Ino had taken them to her dad's empty office and locked them in, and they had sat on the floor and over the space of an hour or so, Sakura told her everything.

They had resumed their old friendship – only much stronger than it had ever been before – without a missed beat. There was just one considerable bone of contention between them, and unfortunately, it was a lot more serious than the heart attack Ino had faked when she had learned exactly why Sakura kept demurely refusing to stay over at her house.

"Ugh," Ino replied, at last, looking away, and her voice turned distinctly cool. "_Those _three again. They're all right. I guess."

"Ino," Sakura sighed, trying to stay calm. This wasn't the first time this issue had come up, and they just couldn't seem to get anywhere with this, no matter how hard she tried. "Please."

"Well, let's see," Ino turned, fixing her with a glare. "It's mostly higher-ranking officers who are doing the psych evaluations and administering the serums, but I've overheard things through the doors. Your little orange-haired friend keeps blubbering on about how he doesn't _mean _to get all psycho and kill people; he really _doesn't, _and don't even get me started on the sharky one – _I like to chop off legs, indeed._ I even heard that bipolar psychotic bitch throw a little tantrum after her interrogator happened to insult her _dear Orochimaru-sama_—"

"Ino!" Sakura yelled, her voice coming out louder than she had expected. "Can't you at least _try _to be nice or understanding, for once? Shut up!"

"Sorry," Ino glowered resentfully. "It's just – I can't believe you replaced me with that stupid, whiny bitch. And those other two head cases. I mean…what the hell, Sakura? How can you even defend them like you do? I understand you had to work with them while you were in Sound, but you don't have that reason to now. How can you _defend _them, knowing that they tried to attack me and would have done the same to any other Konoha shinobi?"

Sakura took a deep breath, trying to form a coherent response, even as she felt the beginnings of a headache throbbing beneath her skull. She understood Ino's reaction to them, and hell, she knew she would have the same strong misgivings if she didn't know them as well as she did, but still. She wasn't willing to compromise her friendship either with Ino or with her team.

"Firstly," she replied, through gritted teeth. "Karin has a name, and it's not _bitch. _And Ino, you have no idea of the kind of awful torment that Jugo goes through every single day, okay? Also, you work and get along just fine with Anko Mitarashi, who has just as many closet and _not-_closet sadistic tendencies as Suigetsu – need I say more? _And _Orochimaru was a horrible bastard and I'm glad he's dead, but he saved Karin's life when she was a child, after her whole village perished. She was the only one out of us who was truly loyal to him, and yet she stood aside and let Sasuke kill him when she thought he had killed _me._" Sakura narrowed her eyes at her oldest friend. "You saw firsthand how loyal they were to Sasuke. Are you really going to blame them for that? You're a shinobi, too. If _your _team leader ordered you to attack an enemy village, would you even think of refusing, regardless of who was hurt in the process?"

Ino averted her eyes briefly, her face flushing. "Yes, but—"

"Ino," Sakura interrupted firmly, seeing her opportunity to make her point, once and for all, and stop this stupid argument from recurring again. "You saw that I was willing to stand against all of them to prevent Suigetsu from hurting you. And _please _stop saying that I replaced you with Karin. I mean…I know she's not the kind of person I would have ever befriended while living here. But she's come to be one of my best friends, and you're another. I missed you, while I was in Sound – as much as I'll miss Karin, if for some reason she can't stay here."

Ino remained mutinously silent for half a street, and finally, she sighed, looking at Sakura wearily. "You're really serious about this?"

Sakura only nodded once in response as they came to a stop in front of Konoha Hospital, the determination in her eyes saying it all. Ino sighed again, glancing away. "You're just a huge bleeding heart walking around on two legs, Forehead Girl," she said flatly. "Instead of taking it at face value that Itachi Uchiha was the psychopathic murderer he made himself out to be, you had to go out of your way to expose the truth. And now you're sticking up for three shinobi from a country that turns out mentally unstable, curse sealed freaks at record speed." Her expression softened momentarily. "I don't hold it against you, though."

Sakura smiled wryly. Even though she would have liked to phrase it in more flattering terms, she understood the truth in Ino's statement – and even though it might not make her a normal shinobi in the eyes of most others, she would rather be true to her own beliefs than blindly acquiesce to others, like she had done to Sasuke for so many years. "Right. Just promise me you'll think about what I said?"

"I will," Ino responded sincerely. "Good luck, Forehead Girl. If I can get a decent lunch break today, I'll try to find you."

"Have a good day, Ino-pig."

"You too, Sakura."

With that, Sakura turned and proceeded into the hospital, her stomach twisting nervously with every step. By the time she arrived at the doors to the ICU, her hands were shaking a little bit as she pushed through them. Even in her state of worry and distraction, the half-open doors off the main hallway revealed rooms filled with state-of-the-art medical technology that she would love to examine, under different circumstances. It was a testament to both the skill of Konoha's shinobi and the expertise of their medics that, aside from Naruto and Sasuke, nobody else seemed to be in this wing.

Sakura unconsciously quickened her step, scanning the room numbers and frowning unhappily as she did so. She got lost here easily – not just because of the endless rows of hallways, all of which were virtually indistinguishable from one another…but because being in this building brought back so many awful memories. She had been eleven when she and her mother had been called here – maybe to the room she had just passed, even – in the middle of the night to identify her father's body, which had been brought back by the two team members whom he had sacrificed his own life to save.

She walked faster, lowering her head. She could feel the way they were starting to burn with tears, as they always did when she thought of him. Sakura shook her head subconsciously, unable to deal with the memories, and when she fully opened her slightly reddened eyes again, she found herself standing at the entrance to a deserted waiting room. Perhaps this was where Tsunade-sama intended to meet her after Naruto and Sasuke were conscious again?

She slowly made her way to the large window and stood at the sill, silently surveying the village without really taking anything in. For a long time, there was nothing but empty silence, but then she heard a repeated, strangely hollow echoing sound, and Sakura tilted her head slightly, confused. Maybe she had been wrong about Naruto and Sasuke being the only ones here – it almost sounded like somebody was banging their hands against the walls, somewhere. Or that someone wasn't walking through the halls properly, but dragging their body against the sides of the hallway instead.

She shivered slightly. Maybe she was nearer the psych ward than she had suspected. But the sound, seemed as if it was getting closer instead of farther away – although, of course, everything echoed here, so she couldn't be sure. Sakura closed her eyes with a quiet sigh, resting her forehead against the chilled glass in an attempt to calm her worn nerves.

The voice, when it came, was soft and distant, but the exasperation in it was palpable. "You know, if you had taken the walker that was offered, you'd be having a much easier time with this."

The words were spoken in an unfamiliar voice, but they brought back a strange sense of nostalgia; of trying, and failing, to convince Sasuke, Suigetsu, or Jugo to accept her healing when they had been injured. Or, more recently, of attempting to get Itachi to let her support him when he was too weak to stand in the midst of a bad coughing fit. Male shinobi were overly prideful beings, and she didn't envy the nurse, whoever it was, the job of dealing with yet another stubborn patient.

"No, no," somebody countered, his voice too incongruously loud and bright and cheerful for somebody who was in the hospital and frail enough to need a walker, and inexplicably, Sakura felt her body begin to tense up, before her mind even knew why. "Come on, Yuki-san! How would it look for Konoha's future Hokage to be seen around here hobbling around on a walker just because of a little stab wound?"

All the breath left her body with as much suddenness as if she had just been punched in the stomach, and Sakura whirled around to face the mouth of the nearby hallway, slowly approaching and leaning against the wall and peering around the corner until she could see the figures about halfway down, and she barely registered the petite, dark-haired figure of the nurse, standing next to him and gently supporting him with one hand on his arm.

The first thing she noticed was that she could barely recognize him. The hideous, puffy orange jumpsuit was gone; replaced by a sleek orange-and-black – predominantly black, thankfully – shinobi outfit. His blonde hair had grown long and shaggy; his face attractively hollowed out in a way that seemed too handsome to actually belong to him. They had been within a couple of inches of each other in height three years ago, but now, Naruto would tower over her, head and shoulders – she could recognize that much, even though his shoulders were hunched somewhat. He was painstakingly holding himself up with one hand against the wall, as he took one small step forward after another. His brows were scrunched together determinedly as he stared at the floor, obviously marshaling all of his effort to even do this much.

This wasn't how she had imagined seeing him again, not injured and broken at the hands of their remaining teammate – but just the fact that he was alive and relatively whole filled her with an overwhelming sense of joy, enough to make her weak at the knees.

"Naruto!"

By the time he looked up, shock dawning in his bright blue eyes, Sakura had already materialized in front of him, throwing her arms around his shoulders in a forceful embrace, and clutching him so tightly that he choked, before staggering backwards a few steps.

"Sakura-chan?" he asked, sounding slightly dazed, as he pulled her away and held her at arm's length for a few moments. "Is that really you?"

Naruto looked stunned, but Sakura was smiling so hard her face hurt – she couldn't remember the last time she had felt so incredibly happy. Too overwhelmed to speak, she jumped back into his arms again, burying her head into his shoulder and holding him tightly. What she had said earlier, to Ino, had been true. While she considered Karin, Suigetsu, and Jugo her best friends as well…nobody could have ever replaced his unique place in her heart. She hadn't realized how much he meant to her until was too late; until she had already been in Sound and could never express it to him again.

"Naruto," Sakura managed, around the lump in her throat. "I missed you so much…" He held her close, obviously not trusting himself to speak yet, and she felt him nod fervently in response. In order to lighten the mood a little bit and keep both of them from getting any more teary, she stepped back one pace, holding him by the wrists and beaming up at him. "Tell me, do you think I look different? Have I grown up any?"

Naruto might have matured physically, but he had the same bright smile. He laughed as he hugged her back equally hard – a testament to his strength, even with a huge, newly-recovering chest wound – and pressed his face into her hair. "You haven't changed at all, Sakura-chan," Naruto grinned widely.

Even though she could hear the relief and gratitude in his voice and knew why exactly he felt that way (even though it killed her to imagine Naruto, lying in bed in the aftermath of Sasuke's near-fatal attack on him and wondering if _she _had been similarly corrupted), Sakura still laughed and punched him in the arm playfully. "Only you could spend two and a half years training with that dirty, perverted Jiraiya and _still _not know how to talk to women, Naruto."

"Hey, hey, Sakura-chan, don't talk about Ero-sensei like that—"

"See, Naruto? You even admitted that he is!"

"I did not—"

The words died in Naruto's throat; his voice petering into nothing, and pressed against his chest as she was, Sakura felt the breath catch in his throat for a fraction of a second. She looked up at him inquisitively, and she could see the intent way he was staring at something over her head and behind her. All the mirth left his face, turning it drawn and pale, and hardening his expression. Sakura swallowed over her suddenly dry throat, and she turned around as well, trying to see what had caught his notice.

Sasuke slowly emerged from the hospital room slightly up the hall from them, escorted by three white-masked and dark-clothed ANBU, and upon seeing them, he had apparently stopped dead, as evidenced by how one of the ANBU was pushing at his shoulder insistently, trying to get him to move. Sakura's sharp gaze picked out the fact that Sasuke had seemed to be walking fine, albeit slowly, and save for a slight limp. Like Naruto, he was pale and unhealthy-looking, but there were deep, dark shadows under his eyes and stress lines on his face that were absent on his former teammate. Most notably, though, there was the straitjacket – the type typically issued by the Torture and Interrogations Department to all of their prisoners; one that allowed for practically no movement of the upper body at all.

_Prisoners. _The word echoed in her mind over and over again. Sasuke looked like the S-class criminal his attempted attack on Konoha technically made him, and the sight made Sakura feel like she had just been punched in the face. There was a curiously empty vacuum in the air where his chakra should have been, and she realized that the ANBU must have temporarily sealed it. The detached, utterly impassive (_guiltless, remorseless, _Inner Sakura seethed, barely restraining herself) look in his gaze was still strangely chilling as it swept over her and Naruto together. Belatedly, Sakura let go of him and took a step away, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see that even though Naruto had raised his chin defiantly, his right hand was trembling. Not out of fear, she knew, but the mingled sorrow and confusion that were probably echoed in his eyes right now – and her heart went out to him.

One of the ANBU prodded Sasuke in the back wordlessly, and he was forced to move forward. He moved slowly, still limping, and Sakura wondered whether she imagined the way his eyes narrowed at her specifically for a fraction of a second before he continued on. He didn't turn back to look at them again, and both she and Naruto didn't look away from him until he had been led out of their view.

Sakura didn't have to look at Naruto to understand and feel what he was feeling; the emotions that were making his face contort like he wanted to start crying, juxtaposed with the way his hands had curled into trembling, white-knuckled fists.

"I still thought of him as a brother, you know," he said abruptly, but uncharacteristically, his voice was so quiet she could barely hear it. "And you as a sister. I never stopped, after all that time…so…when I saw him in the forest, I wasn't expecting him to…"

Sakura reached out and placed one gentle hand on his upper arm, offering all of the comfort she could, and she let Naruto have his pride by carefully looking away when he reached up to wipe away the few tears that had fallen down his uniquely marked cheek.

It took a long time before both of them felt ready to speak again, and they walked arm-in-arm to the deserted waiting room and sat next to each other on the sofa near the window. "Speaking of brothers," Naruto managed, reaching out and poking the tissue she had discarded earlier, and even though his voice was bright again, it wasn't quite the same caliber as normal. "Baa-chan was sitting and talking to me about everything that had happened since you got here, last night, when I had mostly come out of the sedatives and stuff, and, and she mentioned this _thing, _about, you know," – he looked around furtively, and then lowered his voice to a whisper – "_Itachi._ Was it…or was it just the drugs?"

Naruto's eyes were so wide that regardless of the cruel wake-up call that seeing Sasuke had been, it irrationally made Sakura want to laugh. "It wasn't a hallucination. Everything that Tsunade-sama told you was true. What do you want to know about him?"

Naruto looked absolutely awestruck. "So, he was never seriously trying to kill me?" he prodded.

"Not at all," Sakura replied fervently, and Naruto nodded, looking equally serious.

"He really did all of that for Sasuke?"

"Yes."

"So he's _really _a nice guy? Is it true that he was screwing with us for all these years and he's really a completely, genuinely peace-loving, nice, self-sacrificing person?"

"Yeah…"

(To Sakura's extreme displeasure, that ended up coming out as less of a calm, knowledgeable affirmation and as more of a lovestruck sigh.)

They went through this form of question-and-answer for a good several minutes until Naruto finally sat back on the sofa, looking much more relieved and satisfied than he had in the beginning. "That's awesome," he said, with feeling. "So, are you and Itachi really, you know – together?"

Sakura froze, stunned. "…What? I – I—"

"Oh," Naruto replied gleefully, obviously seeing something that confirmed his idea in her eyes, and drawing the word out with obvious relish. "I knew Baa-chan was hinting at something when she said that you would be the one to ask about all things Itachi-related!"

Sakura sighed and drew her knees to her chest self-consciously, wrapping her arms around them. She hadn't wanted that to come up at all, not when she and Naruto were just trying to reestablish their friendship, but Naruto threw his arm around her shoulder with his typical exuberant affection. "Don't feel bad, Sakura-chan, as long as he's really as nice and wonderful and kind and, you know, bunny-saving as everyone says," he told her genuinely.

"…Bunny-saving?" Sakura replied, and the edges of her lips quirked up in a smile.

"You know what I mean."

Sakura smiled, leaning against his shoulder. The iron hand that had clenched around her chest relaxed – this was one less thing to worry about, after all. "Thanks for being so understanding, Naruto."

"You're welcome, Sakura-chan. You deserve someone as amazing as you." He blinked down at her, and then a devious smile spread across his face. "_And_ it'll piss stupid Sasuke-teme off something _awful._"

Sakura sighed and rolled her eyes, trying not to think about it, before pushing him to the other side of the sofa. "Oh, very mature, Naruto Uzumaki. _Very _mature."

* * *

One hour later, they made their way to the chief council meeting room at Hokage Tower, and were promptly refused entry by the masked guards at the door. Three emotional outbursts from Naruto later, they were kicked off the floor and restrained to a small waiting room three floors above – where, two hours afterward, they still sat, slumped in the hard, uncomfortable plastic chairs.

"I can't believe you, Naruto," Sakura commented mournfully, shifting positions for the third time in the past minute. "If you hadn't thrown such an awful temper tantrum, they would have let us go and we could have at least tried to overhear the proceedings in a more subtle way."

Naruto groaned loudly, sliding from the chair to the floor. "I know, I know. And it wasn't a _temper tantrum, _Sakura-chan, I was just—"

Sakura stood up and stretched. "Okay – look, I'm going to see if they're going to let me out to go and get a coffee. Do you want one?"

"Yeah! And if there's any microwave ramen in the lounge, a pork-flavored one would be awesome! I'm _starving…_"

Sakura rolled her eyes at her absolutely incorrigible teammate's antics as she crossed the small room, pulling the door open a crack and intending to slip out quietly – but halfway through, she found her path blocked by three genin, whose C-ranked mission of the day had ended up being keeping her and Naruto locked up for the duration of Sasuke's trial. They all stared at her wide-eyed, like she was an S-ranked criminal, and Sakura sighed. "I'm just getting coffee from the lounge. That's all. I'll be back in exactly three minutes, I promise."

The two boys on either side looked toward the girl in the middle, and she finally nodded, still looking suspicious. Thankful for their mercy, Sakura walked off quickly. They were just so young…obviously newly-minted. Considering their current circumstances, she couldn't believe that she, Naruto, and Sasuke had ever been like that.

_Sasuke…_

The thought made her wince involuntarily, and Sakura looked around indecisively. It wasn't like she would try to break into the council room to overhear anything. She just wanted to see if the proceedings were over or not. And if she didn't come back within three minutes, what were the genin going to do, anyway? Brutally torture Naruto by getting a ramen and then eating it in front of his face?

The mental image that statement triggered made her smirk, and Sakura made an abrupt about-face and headed back toward the top floor of Hokage Tower, where the council room was located. All of the long spiral stairways seemed completely empty, as the majority of the building's many offices had been ordered not to report for work until the trial was over, but she was still on her guard as she approached the top floor.

Bracing her fingers against the edge of the wall, Sakura stood on the tips of her toes and leaned around it, cautiously poking her head into the hallway, and that was when all the ideas that she had about being secretive and unobtrusive flew out the window. Itachi was walking towards her, his head bowed as he stared at the floor contemplatively; his forehead creased with a frown, and he looked so serious that she immediately assumed the worst, stepping out from behind the wall abruptly. "Itachi?"

His head snapped up in response to her worried query, and before he could react further, Sakura quickly crossed the space between them, taking him by the hand and insistently pulling him into one of the adjacent break rooms. She shut and locked the door behind them, leaning against it. "Well?" she asked impatiently.

Itachi's eyes softened somewhat as he momentarily forgot his own misgivings, taking in the fright and worry that was written all over her face, and in a rare tender moment, he reached out and caressed the side of her face, cupping it in his hand for an instant. "Sasuke accepted the terms," he replied shortly, and all the breath left Sakura's body in a long sigh. The abrupt release of the momentous tension that had been weighing on her for four days left her momentarily dizzy, and she leaned into his touch, closing her eyes.

In response to her unasked plea for details, Itachi rubbed his thumb against the slight web of premature lines at the corners of her eye for a moment. "There were several times when I thought he wouldn't," he finally elaborated, his voice doing little to convey the crippling degree of fear and pain that those moments had caused him, although Sakura could hear the traces of strain still lingering in his voice.

He didn't tell her about the agony of sitting in the very back, watching Sasuke, restrained in front of the assembly – and unable to take his eyes off him; spending every single moment silently, fervently pleading with every fiber of his being that his little brother would make the right choice. He didn't tell her about having his heart stop every time Sasuke turned his head to the side, unresponsive to the council's queries, or hesitated too long to answer certain critical questions. He didn't say anything about pressing his white-knuckled fists between his knees for the whole latter part of the proceedings, wishing that he could say that Sasuke was being truthful when he emotionlessly swore never to directly or indirectly act against Konoha again, under pain of death or lifelong imprisonment.

And he certainly did not mention the way that Sasuke looked at him, once; made direct eye contact, holding it for several long moments…and stared right through him, as if he didn't exist.

But perhaps that was why he and Sakura were so well-suited for one another, because Sakura silently looked up at him for a few moments, before standing on the tips of her toes, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him down to her height, hugging him close. She felt the tension and rigidity in his lean, muscular frame, and it broke her heart. The sensation of being embraced like this was still new to Itachi, and all his muscles stiffened briefly, and then he slowly relaxed, his hands going to her waist as he turned his face against side of her neck, quietly and subtly taking all of the comfort that she had offered him.

When Itachi released her, after what felt like too short of a time, Sakura cast a longing look over at the sofas near them, across from the coffee-maker. She wanted to sit down and ask him everything and press for every possible drop of information, but she understood that would have to wait for tonight, when they were alone in their apartment. There were more important things to take care of.

"Where is everybody?" she asked, taking his hand in hers and interlacing their fingers.

"Tsunade-sama and Ibiki escorted Sasuke to the Torture and Interrogations Department shortly before for his chakra-sealing, as his interrogation took place in front of the council."

"And he was clean. Obviously."

Itachi refrained from mentioning that, unbeknownst to the general public, any adequately intelligent Uchiha could find their way around such interrogation techniques – he, Shisui, and even Katsumi had, at the mere ages of eleven and twelve – and settled with inclining his head once, another thought occurring to him. "Your three teammates from Sound have been released from there as well. Ibiki informed me before the council meeting was adjourned. They were all found mentally competent, and have a certain amount of time to get acquainted with Konoha before it can be decided where best to use them. Tsunade-sama also said that I should meet her there as soon as possible in order to go over—"

Sakura relaxed visibly, smiling up at him. "That sounds wonderful," she interrupted. "On both counts. And I should go and tell Naruto, too – he'll be overjoyed."

Before Itachi had the chance to say anything further, she bounced up on the tips of her toes again, giving him a long, sweet kiss. Perhaps it was due to the sickening anxiety and guilt that he had felt during Sasuke's hearing, but now, the sense of need that swept over him was, again, unfamiliar. Regardless of his usual shyness regarding physical demonstrations of affection, he held Sakura close, leaning her against the wall, lightly pinning her with his hands on her hips, and kissing her thoroughly.

When they finally broke apart, Sakura looked up at him, her long pink eyelashes fluttering slightly as she slid her hands from Itachi's shoulders downward, tracing his sharply defined collarbones, and directing a meaningful look over at the nearest sofa. "The door's locked," she told him coyly, knowing that he would never go for it, but the look on his face was, as expected, priceless.

Itachi put one hand on the back of her neck, turning her around and gently but firmly guiding her to the door. "And that is where I draw the line, Sakura."

She turned back and smirked at him mischievously. "You know, Itachi, I do have standards. But I'd say anything for the pleasure of seeing that look on your face that shows me that you're kind of possibly, _maybe_ – somewhere deep down inside – thinking about smiling."

In response, Itachi tried to keep his features as calm and expressionless as possible, but Sakura beamed nevertheless. "Yeah, _that _face. I win."

Itachi tried to think of an adequate comeback, but it was impossible. "You are an absolutely incorrigible flirt." He kissed the top of her head anyway, and with one last affectionate caress of his shoulders, she discreetly slipped out of the room.

After waiting a respectable amount of time, Itachi exited as well, proceeding through the mercifully deserted stairwells of Hokage Tower until he reached the dark, cold bowels of the building: the all-too-familiar Torture and Interrogations Department. Still preoccupied with his thoughts of the trial, he placed the palm of his hand flat on the sensor that would allow him entry, barely hearing the soft hiss that emanated from it in recognition of his chakra signature. The image of the way Sasuke had looked at him kept flickering through his memory, causing Itachi to close his eyes, momentarily pained.

Over the years, he had seen Sasuke's regard for him change momentously. He still remembered when the little Sasuke would look at him with such adoration and trust. He treasured those memories more than he would ever admit, and held on to them when he was at his lowest. But when Sasuke had been eight, on that night, Itachi had seen his gaze turn from loving and trusting to heartbroken, sickened, and betrayed.

And then, four years later, when they had last seen each other, there was hatred. Which was what he had been aiming for, of course – but not even years of preparation could have readied him for seeing Sasuke stare at him with that kind of intense, corrosive hatred in his eyes.

For the first time, Itachi allowed himself to really speculate about Sasuke's reaction to the truth that Sakura had revealed to him, and the ensuing thoughts gave him an uneasy feeling deep in his chest. If it were him in Sasuke's place, he would have felt overwhelmingly grateful that the truth had been uncovered before it was too late, and that he hadn't unknowingly murdered the one person who had been looking out for him all along.

But he and Sasuke were very different. And Itachi didn't blame Sasuke for blaming him – he had never stopped blaming himself, after all – but the thought of that still caused him more pain than he cared to admit.

Itachi glanced into yet another empty room, reaching one hand up to rub the back of his neck wearily. Ibiki's office was at the very depths of the department, all the way back past the interrogation rooms and one staircase down. Navigating even the maze-like labyrinth of hallways here would not have been difficult given a little more light, but his eyesight had deteriorated so much that in this kind of dimness, he felt almost blind. He turned one corner, beginning to descend down the curving staircase and placing his hand against the wall just in case, and—

In the next second, he very nearly collided with his younger brother.

The first thing that Itachi noticed, one split second after both of them stopped dead, was that his own momentary expression of shock was reflected within Sasuke's eyes, and vice versa. Sasuke regained his composure first, though, and he took one step back, his expression turning cold and guarded. "Excuse me."

The impassive formality of his tone was unexpected, as last time they had spoken, Sasuke had been seething so vehemently that he hadn't been coherent. Vaguely, Itachi realized that his heart rate had nearly doubled, and he stepped to the side wordlessly, his voice stuck in his throat. Sasuke stared expressionlessly for a few moments, and then started to move past him, taking one step upward. His limp seemed more pronounced, and even with his weakened eyes, Itachi could clearly see the ring of purplish finger-shaped bruises around Sasuke's neck.

The sight stunned Itachi enough that he reached out reflexively, taking Sasuke by the arm. "What happened?"

The words came out as openly protective and concerned as he had only allowed himself to sound around Sakura or Tsunade in the aftermath of Sasuke's initial capture, and in a tone that Sasuke himself hadn't heard since he had been a young child. Predictably enough, he went very still, all of his muscles tensing up, and then he jerked away roughly, continuing to proceed upward and turning his back on his brother. "Nothing," he said abruptly and very un-convincingly, as he reached upward, tugging the collar of his shirt upward.

The sight was so disconcerting that Itachi turned away and closed his eyes briefly, feeling his head start to pound. He knew that Sasuke would never have let somebody get that close to him unless he had been as highly restrained as possible, and the thought of some faceless ANBU attacking his defenseless brother – locking his fingers around his neck and strangling him until he talked – made his stomach turn. "I told them not to use physical force," he said quietly, almost to himself, as if that would make anything better.

And then Sasuke laughed, and the loud was so unexpectedly loud, harsh, and bitter that it was startling. "Like you care."

The comeback had come out dismayingly juvenile; not at all the sophisticated retort he had been aiming for; but the hurt that visibly flickered in Itachi's eyes for a fraction of a second was worth it. He kept his composure, though, re-adjusting the position of his hand on the wall and turning to face him. "Of course I care," he responded softly, and the gentle, patient tone of his voice made Sasuke sick. "You are my younger brother, and I do not wish to see you hurt."

Sasuke had meant to stay calm and controlled, but the words made him see red. "Bullshit," he spat, his voice trembling with rage. "Is that really what you tell yourself?"

Itachi looked him in the eye, and there was so much sorrow in his gaze that Sasuke had to avert his eyes for a second. "Yes," he said slowly. "I do."

Sasuke took one step downward, putting them nearly nose-to-nose, but he relished the fact that he was still one step above Itachi, towering over him by a mere few inches. "Yeah," he replied scathingly, his tone dripping with derision. "Slaughtering Mother and Father and the rest of our family in cold blood didn't hurt me at all, right, _nii-san_?"

Itachi looked to the side, refusing to meet his gaze, and Sasuke reveled in his weakness – when Itachi finally spoke, it was nearly a whisper. "You know that I never…"

Sasuke stepped downward once, lightly shoving Itachi down another step. "Yeah, I know you didn't _want _to do it. I know they were just _orders_, which seems to make all the difference to everybody else." Itachi didn't retaliate when he reached out, grabbing him by the front of the shirt and pulling him in close, and took all of his self-control not to choke his brother to death right then and there. "But that doesn't change the fact that if you had just kept your mouth shut, they would all still be alive."

Sasuke spoke each word slowly, the venom more pronounced than it had ever been – right out of his darkest contemplations – and Itachi turned away again, trying to move past him and prevent this conflict from escalating. But the action triggered something in his younger brother, and with one lightning-quick movement, Sasuke slammed him up against the hard stone wall with such force that his vision went black, and when Itachi opened his eyes again, Sasuke was holding him by the throat, his face contorted with anger. "Do you feel guilty, nii-san?" he asked softly, mockingly. "Do you regret it? Now that you know what happened because of you, do you wish you had kept your stupid mouth shut?"

He had meant to stay silent; to wait this storm out and then continue on, keeping it just another secret to bury within himself. But Sasuke's repeated attacks cut through every veneer of composure that Itachi possessed. For the first time in his entire life, the stirrings of resentment and even anger that he had felt toward Sasuke during his time with Sakura flared up into something frighteningly large, tangible, and unstoppable. Itachi narrowed his eyes at Sasuke, and in one quick, forceful movement, he broke his younger brother's hold on him, locking his right wrist in an iron-hard grip and bending it back so that if Sasuke even tried to break the grip, his own bone would snap under the pressure. Sasuke glared back at him, and the tension in the narrow stairwell was unbearable.

"No," Itachi said quietly, seriously, locking gazes with Sasuke, so that his younger brother could see the absolute sincerity in his gaze, and his tone was firmer and sharper than it ever had been. "I do not regret it. I do not wish that I had _kept my stupid mouth shut. _I did what I thought was right, and I…" he faltered momentarily, thinking of his mother and Katsumi and even his father, but the moment of hesitation was brief. "…To this day, I believe that I made the right decision."

Sasuke's eyes flashed crimson with pure, undiluted fury, and in the next second, his fist slammed squarely against Itachi's jaw. The force behind the blow that he hadn't seen coming was enough to knock him back against the opposite wall. It drove all the breath from his body, pronouncing the ever-present pain in his chest a thousandfold, and Itachi gasped despite himself, feeling his heart seize up. Sasuke's merciless grip on his neck was the only thing keeping him from collapsing, and even through his dimming vision, he could see his younger brother's eyes take on the cast of the Sharingan, the dark wheels starting to slowly spin.

"How could you?" Sasuke asked, his voice barely audible and choked with anger and sorrow. "How could you value the lives of all those random people over our own family?"

The attack, when it came, was utterly unexpected.

There was one moment of confusion, and then, detachedly – as if he was watching his own body from somewhere very far away – Itachi felt his eyes widen in shock. It wasn't the fact that Sasuke had attacked him with the Sharingan – no, that much was obvious from the start. Other forms of chakra could be sealed, but there was no way to prevent an Uchiha from using the Sharingan and those inherent abilities save for gouging their eyes out with a kunai. It was that he recognized the technique that Sasuke was using on him, even before Sasuke's muscles went limp and his knees buckled, sending him to the floor.

Inoichi or his daughter Ino had been careless. This was a copy of the interrogation technique that both of them favored; the one similar to the Mind-Body Switch, allowing the user to take possession of the prisoner's body and mind and search through their memories at will.

Sasuke's restless, angry presence was all too tangible in his mind, and the thought of that filled Itachi with a sense of dread, but more than that, infuriating, awful _helplessness. _Four days ago, he could have forced Inoichi out of his mind, but today…he had weakened since then. Especially now_. _His physical condition had taken such a toll on his capabilities that he felt utterly useless…and powerless to keep Sasuke from literally rifling through his memories like an open book.

They flew by fast, disjointed, and bringing fleeting pieces of emotions and memories to the surface that Itachi had always tried to forget. The hours of conflict, debating going to Konoha's administration or not, that had never failed to bring tears of hopelessness and frustration to his eyes. The time when he had tried to force himself to stay silent out of loyalty to his family…and the moment that had decisively forced him to make up his mind. It had been innocent, really. Walking up a tree to fetch a scared kitten for a panicking little boy not unlike Sasuke, and realizing that acquiescing to his family's plans meant that the little boy and his family, both active-duty ANBU loyal to Konoha, might die – along with countless others. That families all across the village would be ravaged by loss. And that the village itself; the home that he loved, might crumble, unable to withstand internal strife of that degree, combined with the very real possibility of external forces taking advantage of the mayhem.

The memories went by faster; bringing all the agony and conflict of that time back to light (all those times he had been alone with his mother in the kitchen, helping her cook and silently waging an internal war over whether to risk telling her or not), and even as Itachi's eyes filled up with tears, he couldn't help but think to Sasuke, begging him to listen – _see, little brother? It wasn't that easy._

He felt Sasuke falter just briefly, but he continued, making it a point to linger on Itachi's memories after he decided to tell Konoha and the massacre was ordered. One of them was the Tanabata Star festival, a mere few months before that night…walking through the crowds with Katsumi; buying her a stick of cotton candy and handing it to her so their fingers brushed…and knowing that in a comparatively short time that she would die at his own hands. The happiness of their time together had been marred by such sorrow.

And then something else entirely flitted to the surface – another memory triggered by that unique combination of happiness and sorrow. Something that Sasuke couldn't fail to take notice of.

It was a memory of him and Sakura together, some time ago – the night that they had sat in front of the campfire and had a discussion about his book of poetry that was rife with deeper meaning. Sakura's hair had been wet from her bath and she had been wearing nothing but his Akatsuki cloak, as her clothes had gotten soaked in the sleet. It was certainly an odd picture, but he hadn't been able to take his eyes off her when she had laughed so hard over something they had said.

Itachi felt Sasuke's sudden, intense suspicion, and feeling the horror rise up within him, he summoned all of his strength to try and resist, forcing his younger brother back. Sasuke couldn't see this.

Sasuke persisted, though, and for several long moments, the two Uchiha struggled with each other. On any other day, Itachi would have prevailed, but in his weakened state, Sasuke won out, barely.

The only memories that slipped through Itachi's tight hold were brief snapshots, but no less incriminating for that. His hands pressing against Sakura's hips, gently pinning her against the wall. Working the zipper on her sleeveless red shirt downward, and shrugging it off her shoulders. Lightly pressing his lips against the sensitive junction between her neck and shoulders, and then moving up to the spot behind her ear and lightly nibbling on it in the way he knew she liked. More mortifyingly, a spare memory of that first time in the inn; sliding his hands up her bare back, caressing her upper body and feeling Sakura shudder, burying her forehead against his shoulder and wrapping her arms around him tightly. Kissing her for the first time in the cave; pulling her up to him by the hair and pressing his lips against hers hard, combing his fingers through her long, soft locks and holding her close.

Sasuke withdrew immediately, his horror and revulsion palpable in the instant before he retreated, and Itachi staggered forward, his hand seeking the rail in order to steady himself. By the time his vision cleared, Sasuke had pulled himself up to his feet, but instead of attacking him, he just stood and stared, looking pale and disgusted. They stared at each other for a long time, Sasuke's face contorting. "How could you?" he asked, his voice trembling with rage. "You – you…forced her to—"

He stopped abruptly, looking ill, and Itachi felt all of his muscles tense up. This was a dangerous combination, but he, too, felt more enraged than he had in longer than he could remember. He could hear his blood pounding in his ears, and he was hardly able to comprehend what his own younger brother had just accused him of. "I…what, Sasuke?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous, as he took one step forward. "What did I do?"

Sasuke stared at him for a few long moments, his shoulders rising and falling with his unsteady breaths. "You destroy everything that belongs to me!" he yelled, sounding dangerously unstable. "So it wasn't enough for you to kill our family; you just had to rape Sakura too?"

Before he could even draw another breath, Itachi slammed Sasuke up against the wall by his throat, pinning him there with a merciless grip. In a rare unguarded moment, Sasuke's eyes widened with fear at the dark chakra and unrestrained anger emanating from every fiber of Itachi's being. "You shouldn't accuse me of such things, little brother," he said, his voice low and furious.

This time, he summoned all of his strength, and Sasuke was powerless to stop the ensuing attack. It was a complex genjutsu, layered with his own memories, and Itachi took an unhealthy amount of pleasure in showing Sasuke the multitude of images of him and Sakura together. Curled up in bed; occasionally holding hands when they traveled on their way to Konoha; the times when she would sit tucked against his side with her head on his shoulder as they talked about anything and everything. Even the countless embraces that they had shared in the past several weeks, down to such minute details as the way she smiled when he kissed her on the forehead, or the way she would look when he surprised her with a thoughtful gesture. He made it a point to linger on the expressions of alternating happiness, content, and desire on Sakura's face every single time, combined with the memories of how lovingly or affectionately she would look at him when the mood overtook her.

When Itachi finally withdrew, giving his younger brother a quelling look, Sasuke appeared as if he had been shocked speechless.

"You see, little brother," Itachi responded scathingly, applying some more pressure and forcing Sasuke to look up into his eyes. "This concept may be foreign to you, but when you treat a woman properly, with consideration and respect, she will _want _to be with you. I did not force Sakura into anything." He glanced at Sasuke coolly, tightening his grip on his neck somewhat, his crimson eyes boring into Sasuke's startled gaze. "And I would also advise you to give up on the foolish belief that Sakura is, or ever will be, _yours. _Even if things do not work out as well as I would hope, I believe that our time together has taught her never to settle for anybody who treats her with even an iota less kindness, consideration, and respect than I do."

He released Sasuke abruptly, his glare dripping condescension, and before the younger Uchiha could even think of retaliating, they both heard the echoing sound of a familiar pair of high heels clacking loudly against the stone floor.

Itachi and Sasuke barely had enough time to step away from each other by the time Tsunade came into view, clutching a large file to her side and looking hassled; obviously just having left Ibiki's office. She stopped dead the moment she saw them, her sharp gaze flickering back and forth and noting the fact that both brothers were glaring daggers at each other. "Uchiha?" she asked cautiously, sparing a moment to wonder whether the name had a plural she could use without sounding like a fool, and then deciding against it. "What's going on here?"

After a few moments, Itachi was the one to speak up. "Nothing, Tsunade-sama."

Sasuke nodded his assent, but Tsunade fixed both of them with a searching look nevertheless. "Very well," she remarked suspiciously. "Uchiha, younger: you said you were going to go observe the current status of your ancestral home to see whether it was still livable. You have no reason to linger here. Uchiha, older: come with me."

With one last withering look at his younger brother, Itachi followed after Tsunade, leaving Sasuke to wordlessly stare at his retreating back.

* * *

She had always hated breaking in new boots.

Silently cursing her unfortunate tendency to form blisters easily, combined with how damn hard it was to track down Karin, Suigetsu, and Jugo – after so long spent confined on that tiny Sound base, she had forgotten just how large Konoha was – Sakura leaned against the nearest wall heavily, unzipping her left boot a few inches and leaning down, trying to massage her calves and ankles as best as she could. There was nothing to do for the blisters save for a cold tub of water, and she couldn't get that until later today.

She rubbed her sore ankle for several minutes, wincing as she barely pressed her fingers against her heel. Realizing that she was a few moments away from ripping off the shiny, knee-high _to die for_ boots and flinging them as far away as she could (and Ino would definitely not approve of that), Sakura forced herself to zip up her boots again and straighten up again, ready to resume her search.

And just when she turned around, about to check all of the local eateries – Suigetsu was always hungry, after all – she found herself nose-to-nose with the last person she would have expected.

Before Sakura could even draw a surprised breath, Sasuke already grabbed her by the hand, pulling her down a nearby side street, his iron-hard grip on her hand making her wince. Initially too stunned to resist, Sakura stumbled along behind him a few more paces, trying not to trip and fall flat on her face. "Sasuke?" she asked, startled. "What are you doing?"

He didn't respond for a few moments, although he had that look on his face that signified he was thinking about speaking, and alarm bells started to go off in her head. Was he going to apologize or something? Even though Sakura's first instinct was just to break his grip and just leave – she didn't think she could just stand there and even think about talking calmly and rationally to the person who had hurt Naruto like that – she made herself wait it out. He had to have some reason for accosting her like this…

Sasuke spared a brief glance backward at her. "We're going to retrieve Jugo, Suigetsu, and Karin," he told her, his voice sounding oddly calm and controlled. "I'm taking all of us down to the Uchiha Compound to stay. There's no other place I would rather be confined to."

The words took a few moments to register, and when they did, Sakura stopped in her tracks, feeling her stomach give a nervous little flip. It took Sasuke a little while to notice that she wasn't following him anymore, and he turned around. "What are you doing?" he asked flatly.

Sakura fidgeted once, before meeting his gaze bravely. Starting some kind of confrontation wouldn't do any good. "Sasuke, I really appreciate the offer, but I already have somewhere to stay and I don't intend on leaving."

Sasuke raised his eyebrow a tiny bit, slowly walking back to her. "Oh, really?" he asked, sounding deceptively calm. "And where would that be?"

"I…" Sakura hesitated briefly, but stood her ground. She wasn't a great liar, and Sasuke knew her well enough to see through her any day of the week. "I don't really see how it's relevant."

Vaguely, she realized that he was backing her up against the brick wall of the side of the convenience store, and even though she sensed that his chakra had been completely sealed; long gone for at least a year; it still caused a brief shiver of intimidation to run through her spine – a conditioned response. "Oh?" Sasuke asked, his voice icy. "Well, I do."

Something in her belatedly realized what all of this was probably about. "Sasuke," Sakura said desperately, turning her head and trying to avoid his gaze. "Please—"

It did no use. She had just enough time to see the tomoe of the Sharingan start to spin before all the breath left her body in a harsh gasp.

She recognized this horrible, invasive feeling from an almost-forgotten memory from three years ago. When Ino had used the Mind-Body Switch to attack her in the preliminary rounds of that chunin exam. Except this wasn't Ino – it was _Sasuke_, in her mind, relentlessly poring through the memories of her and Itachi; lingering near the surface as they were…and going through them in slow, painstaking detail. Every moment that they had spent together, especially after they had started getting closer. Every excruciating detail of how she felt about him, and how she had come to feel that way.

It filled her with panic, and even though her body was powerless to resist in any way, Sakura suddenly doubled up from the sudden, splitting pain in her head. She recognized this uncanny feeling too, and with as much clarity as if she was watching a movie of what was going on inside her own mind, she literally felt Inner Sakura attacking Sasuke with all her might, violently and unceremoniously forcing him out of her head.

By the time her head stopped spinning and she regained control of herself enough to stand up fully, Sasuke had done the same. Both of them were gasping for breath as if they had just run several miles civilian-style, and Sakura could feel the cold sheen of sweat on her forehead and hear the way her heart was pounding unnaturally fast, but she forced herself to meet his gaze evenly, trying not to let her apprehension show.

But she could see the condemnation in his eyes, and it filled her with an irrational sense of fear – even though the rest of his body language and expression was flawlessly, coldly calm, she could sense it was just a thin veneer hiding the rage that threatened to explode at any minute.

"Sasuke," Sakura spoke quickly, unable to hide the pleading note in her voice. "I…just let me explain…"

"Explain what?" Sasuke asked harshly, his voice beginning to rise, and when he stepped forward, she stumbled backward, her back colliding with the wall, and he grabbed her wrist with a bruising grip. "I – I…cared about you, Sakura. I always have, even if I didn't express it as flawlessly as some other people do. I was going to tell you, after I was done with Itachi. Every night, I thought about it. Agonizing endlessly about what I was going to say and worrying about whether you would still be alive to hear it."

This was like a scene out of her worst nightmares, and Sakura met his eyes desperately, hardly able to believe what she was hearing. "Sasuke, I—"

"Shut up!" Sasuke yelled, so loudly that the birds on the cable above them all flew away. He stared at her with unconcealed fury for several long moments, before finally releasing her as if her skin burned him, and the disgust in his gaze as he looked at her was unparalleled by anything she had ever seen before. "It was my mistake," he said, his voice loaded with quiet malice. "I shouldn't have wasted my energy on a slut who would have spread her legs for the first man who told her she was pretty and said nice things to her."

The words hung between them, heavy in the still air, and they hit her with more intensity and caused her more pain than anything Sasuke could have ever physically attacked her with. He was still staring at her coldly, and even though Sakura didn't want to give him the gratification of knowing how much he'd hurt her, she was powerless to stop the way her eyes filled up with tears. But she wouldn't just stand there and cry: the anger was welling up in her as well, and she was outraged at the fact that he would dare to be so cruel when he knew that wasn't the case. She wanted to do something – anything – to cause him as much pain as he'd just caused her.

"I'm not a slut," Sakura said quietly. "I love him."

It had just been the truth – nothing more, nothing less. But Sasuke looked so shocked, and from the speechless, numb way he was staring at her, Sakura knew that it had hurt him more than any other physical or verbal attack she could have ever used.

She pushed past him roughly, returning to the main street. Forgetting about finding Karin, Suigetsu, and Jugo, Sakura blindly retreated to the apartment that she and Itachi shared as fast as she could, and she made it to the sofa by the time she collapsed; curling up into a ball and dissolving into wrenching, heartbroken sobs.

She cried for what felt like hours, until there were no tears left. Afterward, too numb to do anything else, Sakura stayed on the sofa, watching the sun begin to set through the window and wiping her face with the corner of the nearest cushion, before simply resting her forehead on the soft material, waiting for her breathing to regulate and closing her eyes.

It felt like it took forever for Itachi to return, but when the key finally turned in the lock, Sakura was too drowsy to fully register the sound until he had already entered. She looked up wearily, her swollen eyes making her vision blur, and she wasn't sure whether it was just a trick that her eyes were playing on her, but as Itachi quietly slipped into their apartment, he looked strangely…saddened. Sober.

But the look was gone in a second, as soon as his eyes lit on her; replaced with a concerned expression. He could easily see how upset she was, even if she didn't seem to be crying. After a moment's hesitation, Itachi joined her on the sofa, somewhat awkwardly reaching out to stroke her hair, but Sakura remained silent and still, save for leaning against his side briefly. Wordlessly, he got up again, fixing her a cup of sweet blueberry tea and bringing it to her. She accepted with a halfhearted smile, and Itachi waited patiently as she drained the cup, one small sip after another.

He trusted that she would tell him what was wrong eventually, without prompting, but Sakura stayed quiet, staring at the opposite wall as she rested her head against his shoulder, and finally, Itachi was so disquieted by her unusual behavior that he spoke up. "Are you all right?" he asked tentatively, very aware that he was straying into new territory.

The question surprised her – Sakura had come to learn that Itachi avoided talking about _feelings _of any sort – but regardless…alone together with him and the unique comfort and affection he offered, it was so tempting to spill everything out, but she hesitated briefly. If she told Itachi what had happened between her and Sasuke, regardless of Itachi's perpetually calm emotional state, she knew that he would be enraged by what his younger brother had said to her. And that went against everything she wanted. She wanted Itachi and Sasuke to get along and have the loving, brotherly relationship that they had missed for so long, so her trivial issues weren't worth bringing up. It would just create distance between them.

Making up her mind, Sakura gave Itachi the most genuine smile she could manage. "It's nothing," she said firmly. "Don't worry."

He raised an eyebrow, obviously skeptical, but before he could pursue it further, she cut him off with a question, taking his hand and intertwining their fingers together; looking up at him keenly. "Talking about more important things – what happened with Tsunade-sama? Did she have anything to say about your condition or prognosis? Was there any new information from the blood analysis?"

Sakura's eagerness was tangible, but Itachi remained silent for a moment, torn. The knot in his chest felt more pronounced than usual, but when he glanced down at her bright eyes, a strange sense of calm came over him. He understood what he had to do.

"Yes," Itachi replied quietly. "She said that there was hope for a positive outcome with the necessary treatment. I will see her tomorrow for more details about the steps that have to be taken."

Sakura beamed, her entire face brightening up, and she threw her arms around his shoulders, hugging him affectionately. "That's wonderful!"

Her overwhelming gratitude was obvious as she sat up straighter and placed a kiss on his cheek, before re-anchoring her arms around his shoulders, and even as Itachi reciprocated Sakura's embrace, he remained silent, staring out at the setting sun through unseeing eyes.

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

:) Hopefully this long, eventful chapter makes up for the time between updates and was worth the wait. Thank you so much to everybody who commented on this – my mother's surgery went well, but she is still in the hospital to make sure everything with her body is working as it should for the long term. Hopefully she will be able to come home soon and things will get better for us.

I hope that this was an enjoyable read, and as always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. I love hearing from you guys. :)


	17. Fade

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was marvelous enough to leave a review. :)_

_Chapter Seventeen: Fade_

* * *

Itachi took a deep breath, staring back at Tsunade, and when he spoke, his voice was calm and even. "Tell me more."

She looked at him for a moment, obviously a little taken aback by the degree of composure he was showing. "Very well. The abnormal mitral valve and the malformed quality of the left ventricle is what has rendered your heart so very weak for the past years of your life. The medications kept it going for long enough, but they didn't do anything to stop this." The Hokage tapped one finger on her neatly drawn diagram of the human respiratory system. "All the years of such a weakened immune system left your body ravaged by all those respiratory illnesses, and the tuberculosis that you caught two years ago lead you to acquire bronchiectasis, an obstructive, irreversible lung disease."

She paused to exhale, leaning back and once again consulting the notes on her clipboard. "I've done a lot of research involving this, Uchiha – but the only possible way to restore you to some semblance of health involves major surgery. A double lung transplantation, to be precise, combined with the necessary heart transplant. Chakra can do many things, but it cannot generate new tissue in the way your case dictates."

The words hung in the air between them heavily, and Itachi felt the impact as if it had been a physical blow to the chest. Regardless of how calm and even-tempered he had been a moment ago, it took him a few moments to regain the ability to speak. It was a surely a testament to his own foolishness that he did not realize that not all medical irregularities could be solved by the usage of medical chakra of the sort that Tsunade, and to a lesser degree of expertise, Sakura, relied on. "…Ah," he commented, closing his eyes and struggling to hold on to his sense of calm. "I see."

"It's a complex procedure," Tsunade spoke at last, and he could hear the strain in her voice. "There's a success rate of seventy percent in healthy individuals under the best of circumstances, and needless to say, your percentage would be much lower. And I've been trying to advocate a change in this for decades, but you know that in our society, the practice of organ donation is scarcely heard of. There are a couple of existing organ banks, but they are far away, and procurement of the necessary organs would be _very _expensive. Cost isn't the issue, though – it's the fact that we don't know if any of the organs they have would even be suitable for you."

Itachi made himself nod again, feeling strangely detached from the entire situation, and for the first time, he was grateful for the compartmentalization skills he had acquired during his time in ANBU. It was not denial – that was completely uncharacteristic of him – but he didn't want to feel this, yet. He couldn't.

All the breath left Tsunade's body in an embittered, weary sigh, and she reached across, taking him by surprise and gripping his hand tightly, her eyes seeking his. "I wish I could have done more, Itachi," she said, her usually strident voice softened by sadness and regret. "If you want me to, I will take the necessary steps to get you any drugs on the market that could bolster your immune system and to acquire you the necessary transplants, but as a medic-nin, I have to be completely honest. Your outlook is not good in the long term."

Itachi lowered his head somewhat, staring at the dark wood of the desk as he allowed the words to sink in. His heart was beating all too fast in response to the stress of the situation, and his throat had tightened in response to the strain, but regardless, he was merely conflicted, not shocked. He had never been foolish enough to really get his hopes up through this entire process, for fear that they would be dashed down again, and to his gratitude, there was none of the emotional response that he had feared – just the same calm acceptance of his fate that he'd always had. The sorrow that he felt right now was really more for Sakura and Sasuke then for himself, and the sense of guilt that washed over him was nearly crippling. Stupidly and selfishly, he had become involved with both of them, but would not be there in the future for them – not to continue his relationship with Sakura, or to mend his relationship with Sasuke. More than anything else, he regretted getting involved with Sakura; not only would it cause her nothing but pain, but more than that, it had also indirectly caused Sasuke to come to know the truth about the circumstances leading to their family's deaths…causing him even more torment.

Tsunade's perceptive gaze picked out the guilt in his features, and she sighed, correctly guessing the reason and wishing for the millionth time that he had been unattached. "When do you intend to tell Sakura?" she prompted. "I could call her in and speak to her if you wish."

The offer was tempting for a fraction of a second, but Itachi shook his head slowly, feeling a frown begin to etch itself into his brow. "…I do not."

"_What_?" Tsunade narrowed her eyes at him. "Tell me I misunderstood you."

"I just wish to make things easier for her," Itachi responded quietly and composedly, unfazed by her glare. "I do not want to hurt her more than she already will be. By the time Sakura figures out the truth, I will be gone."

Tsunade continued glaring him for several long moments nevertheless, and finally, with a growl of frustration, she buried her head in her hands, overwhelmed. When she finally cracked her fingers open and still found the Uchiha staring at her with a look of implacable serenity, she straightened and faced him, a grim expression on her face. "I suppose that I understand your intentions," she said bluntly. "But it's a stupid plan, and something that I personally find highly reprehensible. You think you're trying to protect her by doing this? She doesn't need to be protected."

"Maybe so. But you have the decency to honor my wishes regardless, and you will not breathe a word of this to Sakura…correct?"

Tsunade scowled, looking very unhappy with the situation. "Correct."

She pulled open one of her desk drawers and began loudly rummaging around in it, and she finally withdrew a small silver key, setting it out between them. Itachi regarded it, the barest hints of curiosity just visible in his usually un-expressive face. "Just to make it even clearer, I don't agree with your current course of action, and I believe it's highly unwise and something that you will regret," she informed him coolly. "But in case you decide to go through with it, I have a small vacation home right across the border from the River Country, in one of the smaller towns. I go there twice a year, and in the spare time, I have it well maintained by several housekeepers, and it's completely furnished with all working amenities."

She slid the key toward him. "You are free to use it, Uchiha. It's very quiet. Peaceful."

Their eyes met and a silent understanding passed between them, and deeply touched by the surprising gesture of kindness, Itachi bowed his head respectfully as he rose. "Thank you, Tsunade-sama."

In all honesty, the Hokage had dismissed any assumption he'd initially made about her, based on the prejudices he'd held because of her ancestry. She had revoked his criminal status, reinstating him as an honorable, legitimate shinobi in the eyes of Konoha, and clearing him of any technical responsibility for the death of his family. At the very least, he would die without that stigma over his head, and she had tried her hardest to offer him some sort of assistance. More importantly, she had interceded on Sasuke's behalf in a remarkable way, saving him from lifetime imprisonment or execution. In that moment, the feeling of regret that he hadn't consulted Tsunade as soon as she ascended to the position of Godaime Hokage was so strong that Itachi was hit by a wave of self-loathing, but he pushed the thoughts away, knowing such contemplations would only make his current situation even more difficult.

Tsunade nodded, rising as well, and he could see how difficult this was for her by the new set of lines that had seemed to have engraved itself on her face. For a medic-nin, as Sakura had told him once, there was nothing harder to cope with than the one percent of people that were beyond saving, and irrationally, Itachi felt guilt for causing her grief as well. "Is there anything more that I can do for you?" she asked gently.

Itachi hesitated for a moment, his gaze seeking hers. Despite her query, he could truly not think of anything on his own behalf, but he spoke up regardless, in a rare moment of completely bare honesty. "Just take care of Sasuke and Sakura. That is all that matters to me."

"How characteristic of you." Tsunade gave him a sad, wry smile. "I give you my word that I will. And just because I'm not willing to let you walk out of here without anything for yourself…"

She pulled open yet another drawer in her massive desk, and Itachi watched, slightly nonplussed. "One thing that you might not know," the Hokage informed him, lifting a small, opaque bottle out and observing the minute code on the white plastic lid, "Konoha manufactures some of its own drugs now. It's a fairly new development. My assistant Shizune and I work on all of these ourselves with the help of a few of our best chemists. They're top secret; nothing like them is on the modern market, as the ingredients haven't been legalized yet. They'd go for a fortune, but I trust you're not going to betray the village. If you're willing to accept this and take two a day, this medication will at least ensure that your remaining time will be relatively painless, which it won't be otherwise."

Again, the words took a few moments to register, and when they did, Itachi closed his eyes, his expression caught between a grimace and a smile. It was undeniable that this was hardly the result that he had envisioned when he had walked in here earlier today, but he still accepted the drugs quietly and gracefully, knowing that it was the best he could do.

* * *

The sun was setting in a striking riot of pinks and oranges and purples as it streamed through the open window, the rays pooling brilliantly on the wooden floor – what Katsumi always called a 'rainbow sherbet sunset', similar to her favorite flavor of ice cream. Itachi's memory of her first declaration of that was vivid, and whenever he saw a bright sunset like this, no matter where he was or in what circumstances or state of mind, he always remembered her statement and took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the setting sun. This was the first time in years that he had been unable to do so.

Lost in his sober thoughts, Itachi neatly folded yet another one of his shirts, transferring it to his usual simple black pack, which he would later put inside his summoning scroll. The mere thought made his hands shake somewhat. Next to the mirror as he was, he could see the way the ever-present stress lines underneath his eyes had deepened in the past hours, but he knew that it was necessary for him to leave sooner rather than later, for more reasons than one.

The loud, sudden bang of the front door jolted him out of his contemplations. "Itachi?"

Sakura's call was quickly followed by the sound of her rapidly approaching footsteps, and grateful for the prior warning she had inadvertently provided him, Itachi managed to push his traveling pack behind the dresser and out of sight just an instant before she crossed the threshold of the room, hoping that none of the brief guilt he felt at seeing her was expressed on his face. This all felt so dishonest, and even though he knew it was necessary, the thought did not sit well with him.

Sakura's hair was windswept and her cheeks flushed from the run, and she smiled at him in greeting, before closing the distance between them to give him her typical embrace. "What are you doing back here so early?"

"Merely cleaning," Itachi responded without missing a beat, simultaneously grateful for and hating the fact that she trusted him with such ease.

Sakura pulled back and looked around their bedroom skeptically. "But it's not bad at all. You're just so obsessive-compulsive. Anyway," she grabbed him by the hands, intertwining their fingers together and looking up at him persuasively. "So, I was out at the practice fields with Ino and Naruto, and you know that I've been talking to Karin and Ino to see if they could ever make peace or at least try to get along. Ino finally said she was willing to give it a try, and also that I could invite Karin to spend the night with us at her house tonight. I mean – I love spending the night with you," – she blushed shyly, hating how forward that sounded – "but I _really _want them to be friends and I think that we could all get along wonderfully if we try hard enough. And I'll be back really early tomorrow."

Somewhat thrown, Itachi nodded once in acknowledgement of the words. This was certainly…unexpected.

From the moment he'd left Tsunade's office, when he had actually allowed himself to think of it, he had been entertaining ideas of this one last night with Sakura. It would be a chance to discreetly, physically express to her how much she had come to mean to him; how much she was loved and valued, and a taste of what he would have given her if he had been able. It would be his last goodbye to her and his last chance to indulge in her presence, and when the time was right, in the future, Sakura would have those memories of their last interactions to carry with her and hopefully give her some comfort and happiness. She would know that he had cared for her as long as he was able.

Still, the mere thought of interacting in her in that way, knowing what he knew about his fate, _and _the possibility of not getting that chance with her, regardless, made sadness wash over him, leaving Itachi feeling completely bereft. The idea of Sakura spending the night at her friend's house was less preferable, yes, but it was the smarter course of action. It made things somewhat easier on him – as hard as it was to admit it and as unbelievable as it sounded, he was unsure of whether he would have been able to keep his emotions in check during the night – while preventing Sakura from suspecting anything as well. This idea was much more practical, regardless of his personal feelings about it.

Unsuspecting, Sakura prompted him gently. "Well?" She gave him a playfully flirtatious look, fluttering her eyelashes. "I'll make you onigiri for breakfast, if that sweetens the deal any."

Itachi tried his hardest to keep his tone as calm and detached as it usually was, as he reached out and ran his fingers through her hair softly. "Go and enjoy yourself, Sakura."

Sakura beamed up at him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "Then good night, Itachi. I'll see you first thing tomorrow morning."

She wrapped one hand around his long, loose ponytail, lightly tugging him down to her level for a kiss. She'd intended it to be just a sweet little goodnight thing, but unable to bring himself to let go so soon, Itachi moved one hand to rest on her hip, holding her close while simultaneously taking his face in her other hand, silently but insistently guiding her closer to him. He reciprocated her kiss with much more intensity than to which he was used, and Sakura tensed, muscles stiffening in surprise, as he moved her backward with a few steps, so that her back collided hard with the wall.

All the breath left Sakura's body in a tiny, surprised gasp, and Itachi took that opportunity to deepen the kiss, caging her in with his arms. Overwhelmed, she tried to return his sudden passion, feeling like she had missed something somewhere. His hands were everywhere: pinning her to the wall by her hips; then slowly traveling upwards, caressing her waist and her back, tenderly cupping her jaw, and his cool, long-boned fingers finally sliding into her hair. His touch made her shiver – she hadn't felt this kind of desperation and intensity from him since their first night together, and all of this made her feel like he was trying hard to convey something that he couldn't in words, like he had on that night. Itachi hadn't kissed her this hard since then, but Sakura closed her eyes and gave herself to him fully, trying to keep up, and surprised and a little bit flattered by the attention. It was a little bit uncharacteristic, yes, but he _was _a twenty-year-old man who, until recently, had been repressed for his entire life. This was probably natural.

After a little while, though, Sakura finally drew back out of necessity, trying to catch her breath. "Itachi," she managed, looking up at him, confused. Whatever had just happened was clearly…over, as obvious as it sounded, and in the time it had taken her to regain her composure, he had stepped away from her and visually regained his usual icy, unbreakable sense of control over himself. For as long as they had been physically involved, she had always silently wondered about how it was that Itachi was capable of such unusual, rare and fleeting moments of intense passion, before totally clamming up again in the next moment…but something about this was just _weird_."Ease up; it's just for tonight. I promise."

Itachi simply nodded once, not trusting himself to speak, before leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to where her forehead met her hairline, and it took more of an effort than he would admit to let go of her arm. After one last kiss on his cheek, followed by an inexplicable moment of hesitation, Sakura turned away and left the room with one look back, coupled with a shy wave, which he couldn't bring himself to return.

It was only after Itachi heard the front door close behind her that he finally allowed himself to lean against the wall and shut his eyes, all of the breath leaving his body in a long, weary sigh.

* * *

_The Next Morning_

* * *

With yet another large yawn, Sakura sleepily drew her cardigan a little bit closer around her body, re-shouldering her light pack as she continued to trudge down the long street separating Ino's house from her apartment. With her other hand, she took another large bite of one of the delicious sticky sweet cinnamon buns that Inoichi had considerately left in the refrigerator for them, regardless of the fact that it was so early in the morning that all of this sugar would lead to a crash within the next few hours. It was a little while before sunrise – they had all left so early because Ino had to be at Hokage Tower at sunrise for a mission, while at approximately the same time, Karin would have to meet Suigetsu and Jugo and go before a panel of jounin who would evaluate their capabilities and strengths as a team in order to determine how they could best serve Konoha.

Still, even though Sakura wished that they could have received more than four hours of sleep, she was still pleased with the way things had turned out in their little impromptu sleepover. By midnight, Ino and Karin had actually spoken a civil sentence directly to one another instead of just using her as a messenger service.

Sakura yawned again, stifling the sound with what was left of her cinnamon bun by stuffing the rest of it into her mouth, as she slowly climbed the steps of the apartment complex, chewing determinedly as she did so. So maybe it wasn't a _giant _accomplishment, but nobody said it would be easy. And it probably wouldn't, but she now had more faith that one day, the three of them could really all be best friends instead of it being just her and Ino or her and Karin.

Sakura fumbled with the key in the lock for several moments before entering the apartment, and she blinked around the dark room blearily, before blindly hitting one of the light switches, throwing her pack on the couch. Despite her drowsiness, the fact that she was back _this _early provided her the perfect opportunity to surprise Itachi. She just had to hope that he was sleeping very soundly – otherwise he ran the risk of confusing an early-morning surprise hug and pounce with an attempted attack, and _that _would not be good for her. Unlike the vast majority of shinobi, herself included, Itachi didn't sleep with weapons under a pillow or otherwise easily at hand, but he could inadvertently do as much damage with his hands by the time he realized what was going on.

Sakura padded down the hall lightly, pleased with how flawlessly silent she could be when the situation called for it, and leaned around the corner of the wall and their half-open door, looking into their bedroom.

After a few moments of squinting into the dark room with narrowed eyes, craning her neck, the pink-haired kunoichi's eyes widened, and surprise instantly welled up within her. _What the…_

She cursed mentally, drawing back and rubbing her eyes. Her vision was getting terrible. Another couple of months and she'd have glasses like Karin. As much as the prospect horrified her, it was obvious that she was just missing something.

Abandoning any pretense of being sneaky, Sakura crossed into the bedroom, flicking on the light and staring around the room, confused. It hadn't been her lack of ability to see in the dark, after all, but…the alternative was even weirder. A quick peek into the adjacent bathroom confirmed that Itachi wasn't there either, and now utterly lost, she backed into the bedroom again, looking around blankly. A brief image flashed behind her eyelids, of Itachi realizing what she had been trying to do and then ambushing her and therefore scaring her out of her wits…but that was totally uncharacteristic. Even Itachi at his most lighthearted (and even then, calling it _lighthearted _was a total stretch), would never do that. And besides…

Sakura brushed her hands over the untouched, pristinely made blankets, frowning as she scanned the entirety of the room again. She couldn't be absolutely sure, but it looked like all of his stuff was completely gone, while hers remained untouched. His Akatsuki cloak, and all of his clothes and belongings…all gone. It was like Itachi had never even been here.

Inner Sakura immediately started panicking, but Sakura fought to keep herself thinking rationally. She exhaled loudly, reaching up and raking her fingers through her hair so hard that the friction of her nails against her scalp made her flinch. After one last indecisive look around the room, she acted instinctively, striding through their apartment and out the door, and as soon as she had found the most advantageous position from which to do so, Sakura directed the slightest amount of chakra to her feet, effortlessly jumping onto the rooftop of the nearest apartment building. It was still so damn dark, and she squinted down at the streets as she leapt from rooftop to rooftop as fast as she could, beginning to patrol Konoha in the same way that she remembered seeing the ANBU do. Her heart was beating way too fast for such a simple exertion; a knot beginning to form in her stomach at the same time, and one glance downward confirmed that her hands were trembling with the same kind of tension.

Her initial quiet panic about what the hell Itachi was doing and where he was going had given way to a realization even more unsettling. It was probably urgent Akatsuki business, and the Leader, Pein, or even Madara, had called him back to Rain right away. Of course Itachi would have had to leave immediately to prevent Madara from suspecting his real whereabouts.

This time, Sakura swore out loud, her frustration making her stumble on the edge of the post office building and nearly lose her footing. This was absolutely _awful, _and probably the worst possible thing that could have happened. As much as it…well, to be honest, as much as it scared her to admit it, Itachi's time was limited, and he couldn't afford to spend any time in Rain at the Akatsuki headquarters, because he would need to get healing from Tsunade _right now _if he was to have any chance of survival. But what could they possibly do about this? If Madara found out that Itachi had come clean to Konoha, the consequences would be unimaginably nightmarish for all of them. Him, _and _the village.

_Leave it for now, _Inner Sakura counseled bracingly. _Focus on finding him first. _

Sakura closed her eyes tight, taking a shaky breath, as she quickened her pace. The cold air was making her shiver and her eyes sting with tears, but she ignored the discomfort, surveying the streets intently. If Itachi had left already…once he was out of Konoha's borders, he could probably use a transportation jutsu right to Rain, and that would mean the end of everything.

She rapidly made her way closer and closer to the edge of the village, the knot in her stomach tightening and making her feel sicker with every step forward. The massive East Gate rose in the horizon above her. What if—

And that was when she finally saw him, clad in his Akatsuki cloak over his normal clothes and quietly, purposefully walking down the path toward the gate – the same path where she had pursued Sasuke on that one fateful night and begged him to take her to Sound with him. Somehow, everything came back to that.

Sakura sighed, stopping dead on the very edge of a supply storage building, lifting her right fist and pressing it to her pounding head and feeling a little bit nauseous due to the abrupt release of tension. What the _hell. _Itachi just looked so calm for someone in his situation. It was infuriating. He should have at least left her a note or notified her in some possible way—

Her worry now melded with intense irritation, Sakura formed a couple of hand seals, and silently materialized directly onto the dirt path, a mere few steps behind him. Itachi kept walking, actually unaware of her presence – from this distance, she could see the tension in his shoulders and the way his head was bowed in thought – and in return, she cleared her throat loudly, now determined to find out what it was that had gotten him so agitated. "Itachi," she demanded, at his retreating back. "What. The. Hell?"

Itachi's entire body stiffened, and his head shot up as he turned back to face her disbelievingly – for once, the slightest amount of surprise actually reflecting on his face. This wasn't right. Sakura was supposed to still be at her friend's house, sound asleep and unaware – the sun hadn't even risen, for the kami's sake. But there she was, standing right in front of him, and looking absolutely livid.

"Sakura," he began, his voice coming out uncharacteristically uncertain, but she cut him off immediately.

"You could have left a note," she pronounced, staring at him acidly, and even though she knew it might be irrational of her, she couldn't help how angry she felt, or the way her words came out so fast that they were barely coherent. "If you had to go to Rain because of Akatsuki issues or something. Instead of just pulling a little disappearing act and assuming that I wouldn't notice or care or _feel _anything about it. Well, that is – are you even going to Rain, anyway? What's going on? If some issues were going on with the Akatsuki or something, why didn't you mention anything to me when we talked earlier?"

The anger with which Sakura was glaring at him was too reminiscent of how Sasuke had looked at him just yesterday, during their confrontation in the stairwell, but Itachi forced himself to meet her gaze evenly, knowing that with both of them, he deserved every moment of their anger and disappointment. This was even more unsavory than his original plan, but it seemed to be the only thing that would work at the moment. He only hoped that she would forgive him for it, afterwards.

He told her almost everything about the double lung and heart transplant that Tsunade had told him, and finally, Sakura tilted her head, looking perturbed. "But…there's nothing like that here. No organ donation facilities. It's just not _done _among shinobi—"

Before the realization could properly dawn on her, Itachi spoke, his tone soft and reassuring. "That is why she has referred me to a certain center run by one of her acquaintances. It is located in a civilian city about sixty miles away from Snow."

Sakura's heart skipped a beat as she stared up at him uncertainly. "That's so far…"

Her worry was achingly tangible, and Itachi had to look away, fixing his gaze on a point somewhere above her head and slightly to the right. Lying to her…was almost as difficult as deceiving Sasuke had been on the night of the massacre. Like it had been then, he knew that this was necessary, but that didn't stop it from causing him pain. "They already have the most compatible set of organs set aside, and they are prepared to perform the surgery and subsequent rehabilitation when I arrive there. I will return on my own within two months."

His voice was impossibly impassive, and Sakura closed her eyes briefly and breathed in, trying to calm herself down and process all that she had just heard. "And why didn't you tell me about this?" she inquired, her voice deceptively calm.

The stubbornness etched into every one of her features, down to the set of her chin and the determined look in her eyes, confirmed the reaction that Itachi would suspect from her – but it was lucky that he had prepared himself for this entire staged situation. "You cannot come with me," he told her, and the firmness in his voice made Sakura blink, surprised.

She jerked away from him, narrowing her eyes, but he preempted the heated reply that was on the tip of her tongue. "This is why I chose not to inform you. The clinic is nowhere for a healthy young kunoichi to be – the administrators probably will not let you in for your own health, and because you would be a liability. Not only might you contract a serious illness from one of the patients there, but you could bring in any contagion that the average person would not be affected by due to their strengthened immune systems, but could kill a very sick, immune-compromised patient."

Sakura looked away, feeling her face flush angrily, and hating his logic. She felt so helpless and in the face of Itachi's perpetual cool composure and reasoning, and she hated that too. "But—"

Finally, Itachi softened somewhat, reaching out and brushing a few locks of hair from her forehead in a rare tender gesture. "I did not wish for you to worry unduly, Sakura," he said, at last, and part of her wondered why his voice was so distant…apprehension about his own upcoming medical trials, probably. "You should be here with your teammates and companions, getting re-accustomed to life here – not languishing in the woods outside of the city, waiting for me. The center is staffed by the most accomplished surgeons in the country. There is no need for you to be so concerned."

Sakura averted her eyes again and took a step back, her chest constricting. This was as close to full disclosure as Itachi was capable of getting, so she knew that he meant what he said. But at the same time, she wished his logic wasn't quite so sound…and that the words that came out of her mouth didn't sound so forlorn and small. "Will it really take two months?"

Itachi only inclined his head once, not quite looking her in the eye, and it took all of Sakura's willpower to try and echo his degree of calm. "Fine," she responded quietly, reaching out awkwardly and touching his arm. "Then write to me and tell me the second you're done, and again when you're able to travel again, so I can come out there and escort you back."

Despite her best efforts, her throat tightened, and vaguely, she registered Itachi moving closer to her. Unable to summon the emotional strength to do much more than fold her arms over her chest and stare at the silver cloud clasp of his cloak, right at the level of his collarbone, Sakura wordlessly leaned into his embrace, resting her forehead against his chest, as he tentatively wrapped his arms around her, looking more than a little unsure of himself.

He released her all too soon, though, and Sakura blinked up at him, willing her vision to clear. As always, Itachi's expression was only visible in the barest sort of nuances, but she could tell that he was having as hard a time as she was, in his own emotionally closed-off way, and kami help her, but this hurt. It hurt so badly, with the same kind of heart-wrenching pain that she used to feel when thinking that Sasuke would give himself up to Orochimaru. But, at the same time…she trusted that Itachi would come back to her. She had to.

Unable to restrain herself, Sakura embraced him again, not trusting herself to speak coherently, and unlike last night, thankfully – this time, Itachi couldn't feel anything but the same detached sense of resolve that he had felt last time he had attempted a deceit like this. When she finally drew back and stepped away, staring up at him wordlessly, he simply lowered his head and kissed her on the lips, letting the contact linger for a few moments longer than he otherwise would have. Sakura smiled a little, but still, it didn't seem like enough, for the girl who had been the first to really make him _feel _since the night he had been forced to kill his family. Despite that, he couldn't think of anything that could properly express how grateful he was for the chance to have met her – regardless of the sorrow he felt at the fact that their time had been cut so short.

"Thank you, Sakura."

Itachi's barely-audible, cryptically spoken words made Sakura's eyes snap open as she reached toward him reflexively, but by then…she was all alone, save for the occasional chirping sounds of the early birds up in the trees. As she had predicted, there was absolutely no trace that anybody had ever been out on this dark path with her.

Sakura closed her eyes, breathing in deeply and trying to calm herself as she wrapped her arms around her body defensively. This was all too sudden. Regardless of the validity of his reasoning, letting Itachi go without a fight went against every instinct that she possessed. Like what had happened with Sasuke, she never let somebody she loved go out and face the dangerous unknown all by themselves. The sense of being…well, of being left behind…as irrational as it was, it made her remember the last time she'd been out here, with Sasuke, three years ago. She hadn't let _him _leave without her. How many times had she wondered what things would have been like if she'd simply let him go – or, more likely, if he had knocked her out to shut her up and left her behind…and vanished without a trace, just as Itachi had?

As if on autopilot, the pink-haired kunoichi made her way to the nearby stone bench and sunk down on it, bracing her elbows on her knees and burying her head in her hands, gathering her thoughts. She would never know the answer to that, but one thing was for sure – if that had happened, she would have probably never gotten the chance to really meet Itachi.

The mere thought of him made her shudder involuntarily out of sheer fear and nerves, and Sakura bit her lip hard, staring at the ground. She was awfully worried, of course, but she trusted Tsunade's opinion above all else. If she said that it was safe for Itachi to undergo such major surgery, then it was, end of story. And, above all, Sakura was overwhelmingly grateful that Tsunade had given Itachi the opportunity for a chance at survival. She was glad that her instincts about coming to Konoha had been right, but at the same time, she had never doubted that they would be. Tsunade was the most talented, knowledgeable medic in the entire world – definitely somebody to be admired.

On impulse, the pink-haired kunoichi stood up, brushing her palms against the fabric of her split skirt nervously and looking at the sky. The day was beginning to break; she could see the faintest tinges of emerging sunlight piercing the darkened horizon. Tsunade would be at her office shortly. She hadn't spoken to anybody about this, not even Itachi, but…ever since Ino had mentioned that Tsunade hadn't taken an apprentice since Shizune, she had been thinking about it. She had hung on to every word that Kabuto had ever said about her, awed by the skills she had, and despite everything that Kabuto had taught her, it was the things that she'd heard the Godaime Hokage could do that drew her fascination and interest most.

Expanding her knowledge and skill set as a medic-nin was the only thing that Sakura could possibly imagine as her new niche in Konoha. Kabuto had taught her enough that she could serve as a medical ninjutsu combatant on any squad with ease, but there was more that she wanted to know. She wanted to focus her abilities more on healing rather than just crippling offensive medical ninjutsu, and learn how to harness her chakra control for displays of that incredible strength she was occasionally capable of. It just seemed like…like something that she was meant to do.

Making up her mind, Sakura began to head toward Hokage Tower, unable to ignore the way her stomach was beginning to churn with nerves. She couldn't believe that she was actually going to ask _the _Godaime Hokage to consider taking her as an apprentice. She sure had a lot of nerve.

After a few moments, she felt a tiny, humorous smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. Well, one benefit of this – wouldn't Itachi be surprised when he got back?

* * *

The sake was watery.

Tsunade slammed the bottle back down on her desk with a loud sigh, glaring at it venomously. Damn Shizune. She must have watered all of her office supply down last night, while she had been _working late. _She _knew _there had been a reason Shizune had been so sweetly insistent that she leave early.

Tsunade leaned her forehead against the mouth of the empty bottle, blinking down at the pale amber-colored liquid morosely. And it had to be today, of all the days. The amount of official paperwork she had to do was ungodly, and to make matters worse, she had been up half of the night, unable to stop thinking about Itachi Uchiha, of all people.

The mere thought made her close her eyes tightly as she turned her head to the side, gripping the mouth of the bottle tightly. His various eccentricities aside, the man was a hero, and that wasn't an exaggeration. He didn't deserve the cards that fate had dealt him. If only he had come to her earlier…

Tsunade sighed. She really, really needed a drink.

Just then, there was a soft knock on her door, and Tsunade started, jumping at least an inch off her chair, before hastily grabbing the bottle off the table and stowing it underneath the desk, just in case. Last thing she needed was an impressionable little genin team being scarred for life. "Enter!" she barked, straightening quickly.

After a moment, the door opened a crack, and out of all the people in the world, Sakura Haruno came in, lingering by the door for a moment before coming to stand in front of her desk and facing her, looking unusually timid. "Good morning, Tsunade-sama. Is this a bad time?"

Tsunade cleared her throat, resting her elbows on her desk and regarding the pink-haired kunoichi while somewhat apprehensively wondering about the whole…debacle…with Itachi. Had he taken her advice and come clean to her about it? Somehow, she doubted it. "Not at all, Sakura," she replied, softening her tone somewhat. "What is it?"

Sakura clasped her hands behind her back, and despite the determined look on her face, at the same time, she appeared strangely nervous as she bowed her head respectfully. "Tsunade-sama, I…I was wondering…would you ever consider allowing me to be your apprentice?"

The last several words came out so rushed that it took her a couple of moments to comprehend them, and Tsunade blinked. Well, contrary to what Sakura obviously believed, _that…_was not quite unexpected. From the few comments that Itachi had let slip about Sakura during her initial evaluation sessions of his health, and his short, ambiguous responses to her queries regarding those, it certainly seemed that Sakura was strongly interested in being a medic-nin and showed a great deal of aptitude for it. Itachi had said that Sakura had always possessed a desire to learn more about healing, not the brutal offensive medical ninjutsu and barbaric illicit experimentation that Kabuto had taught her about during her stay in Sound. He had also mentioned something _very _fascinating about how Sakura's abilities regarding abnormally precise chakra control and vast reserves were almost identical to her own…and the giant canyon that still remained outside one of Konoha's gates testified to that as well.

Tsunade smiled a little, regarding the anxious-looking kunoichi. She hadn't taught anybody since Shizune, and it certainly seemed that Sakura would be a perfect student for someone with her abilities. From what she knew of Sakura's strengths, she strongly suspected that if she had stayed in Konoha, they would have eventually gone through this same process, as Kakashi simply wasn't equipped to teach somebody like her. But she was almost sixteen now; much older than Shizune had been when she had first started her training…although Sakura's base of prior knowledge meant that she wasn't too old to learn, and after a few moments of thought, the Hokage made up her mind.

"I would be glad to have you as an apprentice," Tsunade replied graciously, and with some amusement, she saw how Sakura's head snapped up, her eyes widening. "I have a good deal of work to attend to today, but you should be here tomorrow at sunrise prepared for a rigorous preliminary evaluation of your existing abilities."

Sakura bounced up on the balls of her feet, her entire countenance brightening up and looking unabashedly excited, and it took her an obvious effort to contain herself as she bowed. "Thank you so much, Tsunade-sama," she said, with feeling. "For this, and…" she hesitated visibly, looking down at the floor, trying to find the right way to word it. "For treating Itachi and referring him to that organ donation center for the transplants. I'm so happy that—"

She trailed off, too shy to continue, and all of Tsunade's momentary pleasure at the situation and acquiring her new student drained away. So…the Uchiha hadn't told her, after all. He had carried through with his stupid plan. For the kami's sake, for somebody who seemed to care about her in his own subtle way, as much as he did…this was an unbelievably cruel thing to do. Sakura really believed that he would return in two months, and she would be utterly devastated when he didn't.

Itachi had asked her to inform Sakura of the truth in three months, if she hadn't figured it out already, and against her better judgment, Tsunade had accepted, but…now, she felt genuinely torn between abiding by her word to Itachi, or telling Sakura the truth. At first glance, the answer seemed simple – she had always been a woman of her word, and she would have never imagined breaking a promise to a dying man, let alone somebody she had otherwise failed. But at the same time, working with Sakura every day and taking over the role as her trusted instructor and mentor and continuing to perpetuate this lie, seemed horrible as well.

Tsunade sighed heavily, realizing what she had to do, and hating herself for having to be a part of it. As Hokage, though, she had sometimes acted on her conscience even when it went against other crucial interests, and this was really no different. "Sakura, come here and sit down, please," she ordered tersely, massaging her temples.

Somewhat taken aback by the sudden change in Tsunade's demeanor, Sakura approached cautiously, taking a seat in the single chair across from her and momentarily fearing that the Hokage had changed her mind. "Yes, Tsunade-sama?"

Tsunade looked across into Sakura's wide, apprehensive eyes, and she only hesitated for a fraction of a second before speaking.

And, trying her best to be gentle and considerate, but still in her typical direct manner, Tsunade told Sakura the truth about Itachi's condition and where he had gone.

* * *

Sakura had never actually believed that this could possibly exist when she had read about it in books, but for the first time in her life, after the initial seconds of paralyzing shock wore off, she felt more emotions at once than she'd ever had before. They all came on at the same time, layered within one another, some stronger and louder than others, and some subtler and more chilling.

One of the louder, more immediate ones was anger, because Itachi convincingly, coldheartedly lied to her (_us, of all people, _Inner Sakura kept repeating, stupidly, irrationally. _I thought he cared about us) _with such callous, perfect skill. But at the same time, underneath all of that, there was shock, horror, despair, disbelief, denial—

She didn't cry. The shock was too great. Sakura was vaguely aware of placing her elbows on the desk and burying her head in her hands to keep control of herself, because good, professional kunoichi never lost control over their emotions, while halfheartedly listening to Tsunade-sama explaining to her why exactly Itachi didn't want to tell her.

Finally, Tsunade stopped talking, and the silence and stillness in the office was oppressive. All Sakura could think about was the fact that this was all so wrong. She was supposed to have been able to heal Itachi, and failing that, Tsunade was supposed to. They were medic-nin, after all. This wasn't right, and she felt sickened by it.

"Contrary to popular belief, Sakura, medicine is not a miracle worker," Tsunade finally commented, seemingly reading her mind – maybe seeing the sentiment echoed in her face – and her voice seemed oddly far away, like she was remembering something that caused her pain. "It can be slow and painful, and sometimes, even then, it can fail. Sometimes it can just hold things at bay for long enough. There are ninety-nine people who can be saved, and one who may not be able to, for whatever reasons. It is a hard, bitter lesson to learn, but I hope that this does not affect your decision to pursue your training as a true medic-nin."

Sakura nodded mechanically, and after a few moments, Tsunade actually reached out to her, somewhat awkwardly patting her on the hand twice, before retreating. "Will you be all right?" she asked softly.

Sakura just stood up, slightly surprised that she could even maintain her footing. "Thank you," she managed sincerely, just managing to keep her voice steady, before turning around and making her way to the door.

* * *

_Uchiha Compound_

* * *

When Sakura had been little, before the Uchiha massacre and even before her crush on Sasuke, she'd always had an inordinate fascination with the Uchiha Compound. Her mother would point it out and sigh enviously whenever they took walks around the village. _"Look, Sakura-chan. It's so beautiful – bordering a lovely forest with a gorgeous river, too. Apparently the house where the clan head and his family live is the grandest in Konoha, save for the Hokage's himself."_

Afterwards, she had always wondered about it – about the place where Sasuke and Itachi lived the earlier, more mundane years of their lives, before everything went so sickeningly wrong. Sakura hated to admit it, but she used to have stupid little fantasies about how she and Sasuke would get married and renovate the place and move into it and be happy together. Once, after everything had changed; when she and Itachi had been sitting in front of the campfire and talking about Konoha, her head leaning on his shoulder and his hand resting tentatively on her back, he had let slip that he thought about burning the entire compound, and everything it represented and had forced him to do, to the ground after the massacre.

However, she had never set foot in the place until now. And, despite the fact that the house itself was in a state of disrepair, the surrounding grounds were still as beautiful as she had been told they were. On any other day, she would have spent ages admiring the expansive courtyard: thick, soft green grass; the perimeter lined with cherry blossom trees that beautifully shaded the ground and infused the air with their scent; the elaborately crafted waterfall, pool of water, and small stream running from it…

But today was different, and now, Sakura only had eyes for Sasuke's back, which was currently facing her. This was the first time they had seen each other since…the incident in the side street, and she had just awkwardly told him everything that Tsunade had told her.

Sasuke had made a ruse of carelessly walking down the perimeter of the courtyard, inspecting the cherry blossom trees, when she had came in here and told him that she had something important to say, and he had coolly ordered her to talk. Since the first sentence had left her mouth, he had frozen with his back to her and his trembling fingers still brushing the trunk of the tree.

Sakura could see the way Sasuke's shoulders had stiffened, his hands now shaking even more as what she had told him began to really sink in, but while the sight would have once triggered intense sympathy for him…surprisingly, she no longer had the emotional energy to feel anything toward him at all, let alone get involved with him in any way. For once, she was hurting so much on her own that she couldn't extend any more feeling toward anybody else.

"I thought I should tell you," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "He didn't want anybody to know, obviously, but…it just didn't seem right. You are brothers, after all."

Sasuke remained silent and still, and finally, Sakura sighed, averting her eyes. There was no use even talking to him. "I'm leaving too," she stated flatly. "Tell Karin, Suigetsu, and Jugo when they get back from their evaluation, and tell them I said not to worry."

In response, Sasuke stifled a bitter-sounding laugh. "So you're going off to play house with my dying brother."

Sakura tensed up, turning back to him, and within the confines of her head, Inner Sakura lost her temper, but she tried her hardest to hold onto her composure regardless. "Have a heart, Sasuke," she forced out, through gritted teeth. "Try and be a little bit compassionate for once. The brother who gave you everything is _dying, _for the kami's sake. Yes, Itachi wasn't – _isn't _perfect and really didn't make all the right decisions regarding what happened between you two, but can't you…can't you try and look past everything and make amends and make the best of the time you have?"

The hand that Sasuke had on the trunk of the tree dropped limply to his side, and Sakura saw the way he curled it into a white-knuckled fist. He appeared to be struggling visibly with himself, and when he finally spoke, his voice shook with repressed emotion. "Tell me, Sakura. What good will it do me," he managed, and the fact that he actually seemed to be answering her question honestly, for the first time in maybe forever, astonished her for a second. "What good will it do me to…to get along with him the way you ask, and get to know him and get attached to him…just to lose him again?"

His words left Sakura speechless, and despite everything that had happened between them and how drained _she _was, she felt the faintest stirrings of sympathy for him. It was almost enough to motivate her to take a few steps forward and reach out a comforting hand and place it on his back for a few moments.

She stayed where she was, though, and after a few moments of staring at Sasuke, unable to think of anything to say, Sakura stepped back and exited quietly, leaving him standing alone in the courtyard.

* * *

_River_

* * *

The sunsets here were much more muted than Konoha – soft, blurred, almost watercolor-like tones of pink and pale purple and peach. It was quieter than the Fire Country as well: serene and soft and still in every sense of the word. Isolated, yet peaceful. It appealed to him more than any other place he had ever visited, and Itachi found himself deeply wishing that he had come here earlier…or that he had more time to spend here.

The house that Tsunade had temporarily granted him was the only one so far outside the border town, and despite the pain in his chest, Itachi stoically re-shifted the several bags of vegetables, rice, and tea he had carried all the way from the market in his arms, silently watching it come closer and closer with every step forward that he took. It was a pleasant (_lonely, _a small and traitorous part of him maintained) little house, astonishingly well furnished and maintained, but he had found it completely empty of any sort of food. The town and market were close, though, and he had enjoyed the scenic walk and passing through the empty paths bordering the fragrant evergreen forests and the vast lakes and rivers that cut through every segment of land, but now…he was exhausted. It was a hallmark of how far along his illness had progressed that a journey he could have once completed in a blink of an eye now left him weary to the bone and ready to collapse onto the nearest available surface and sleep until the morning.

Itachi ascended the stairs slowly and managed to extricate the key from the pocket of his cloak and unlock the door without excessive difficulty or allowing his precariously balanced asparagus to fall to the ground. He stepped in quietly, and the moment he crossed the threshold, he stiffened slightly, all of his muscles tensing up. He had left the house dark, which it still was. His vision may have dulled and his physical abilities and reflexes slowed, but the razor-sharp unparalleled intuition and instinct that he had developed over years of working as a shinobi were still completely intact – and they told him that he wasn't alone.

He set his packages down on the floor near the door absolutely silently, before straightening and scanning the area. Distantly, Itachi realized that he should feel more apprehensive about this than he was, but after all…in all humility, he knew that he was more than prepared to deal with whatever the situation threw at him. He had faced much worse in his lifetime than a petty thief or two, although undoubtedly Tsunade would want him to deal with anybody stupid enough to break into her home and steal her valuables with excessive force.

Itachi moved through the house like a dark wraith, making no sound whatsoever as his sharp senses carefully worked to hone in on the exact location of the intruder. When he finally slipped into the small living room through the kitchen, Itachi flicked on the light, intending to startle the interloper before locking them into an unconsciousness genjutsu with his Sharingan – only to find himself face to face with the last person he expected…for the second time that day.

Sakura was curled up in one of the small armchairs, glaring at him balefully, and vaguely, Itachi was able to recognize that he had not been so stunned to the point of speechlessness in several months.

Well, this was certainly divine punishment for his earlier arrogance. He would have been prepared for anything the situation could have thrown at him except _this. _

Still at an utter loss for words, Itachi stepped back defensively as Sakura rose from the armchair in one smooth movement, advancing on him and glaring furiously. She was unarmed, but he had never felt this kind of sheer anger from her – not even when they had first met and she had been under the impression that he had murdered his own family and tortured Sasuke on a sadistic whim. "You," she said, her voice shaking with anger, before he could even think of anything to say, "are an asshole."

Itachi barely even had time to comprehend her words before Sakura started speaking again, her voice growing quieter and more acrimonious with every word, and she looked like she was barely restraining herself from grabbing the delicate little ornaments off the mantelpiece and throwing them at him, one by one. "What kind of awful person are you, that you can lie so easily to the people that you love? You – you _knew, _or you know now,that your stupid lie to Sasuke after your family died hadn't been beneficial to anybody at all and had just fucked things up even more and you even said that you regretted it – but you still lied to me about this?"

When he tried turning his back on her dismissively and walking away, Sakura grabbed his arm with a chakra-loaded hand, wrenching him back to face her, and the fury and hurt in her eyes pierced through his uncaring façade for a moment, cutting him to the bone. "What the hell, Itachi? _Why_?"

She was breathing deeply, obviously taking a brief break before heading into her next rant; her hands balled up into fists as she narrowed her eyes at him, and Itachi simply stared back at her, at a total loss for anything to say. Perversely, he felt oddly calm at the knowledge that she knew the truth and was enraged by it, and finally, he turned away. "Leave, Sakura," he instructed coolly, trying to search for the words that would best push her buttons and force her to storm out of here in a rage. "I have no time for your childish histrionics, and I do not want you here."

Sakura stared at him for a few moments, still utterly incensed, and just when Itachi thought she was going to explode in his face, she whirled around and stormed back into the armchair, throwing herself down on it. "Make me," she spat viciously, unable to remember the last time she had been so angry. And after all that, he tried to insult her intelligence by attempting to lie to her _again_? "Because I'm not going anywhere. Your manipulative mind games and deceit – yeah, I said it, because that's what they _are_ – may have worked for you before, on, oh, let's see, _Sasuke,_ but they're _not _going to work on me. You're a great actor, Uchiha, but I'm not falling for it anymore. If you really want me out of here, you're going to have to prove it…by picking this whole thing up and putting me outside." She narrowed her eyes at him cattily. "One, you don't have the heart to do something like that. Two – even if you did, I wouldn't leave."

Itachi's head was pounding so hard he could barely think straight, and he closed his eyes, looking away and forcing himself to take a deep, calming breath. Ever since Sakura had carelessly unraveled his original plan, the one he had spent years working toward, nothing he had thought of had gone right for him, not even this. Even though the fact remained that if he was an impartial observer in this situation instead of being intimately involved with it, he would likely agree with her, the girl simply did not know how to leave things alone. "You know why I did it," he said, his voice soft yet harsh at the same time. "I merely—"

"Stop!" Sakura yelled, half-rising from the chair. "Just shut up! I didn't need to be _protected, _Itachi! It's just like what happened with Sasuke – you do more harm than help when you try and do these things!"

The tension in the small room was so thick it was nearly tangible, with Itachi deliberately avoiding looking at her, and finally, too weary to sustain the anger that had been eating away at her insides since she had left the Uchiha compound and Konoha to travel to River, Sakura closed her eyes, sinking back down, raking her fingers through her hair roughly, and taking a deep breath. "You and everyone else thinks you're so great – Itachi Uchiha, the great shinobi _pacifist," _she said bitterly, unable to hold it in any longer. "You may not have ever wanted to go out and hurt people with weapons and fists like the rest of us do, and you may have shunned it all these years, but you're no pacifist. You're not even a particularly good person, because you can't even comprehend the damage that you do, and _have _done, with your words. Or you do understand, but you just don't care. Not about the effect that your deceit about the your family's death would have had, and _did _have, on Sasuke…or the effect that your lie would have had on me."

Itachi remained unresponsive to her words, facing away from her and his expression as blank as always, showing no reflection whatsoever of his thoughts, and finally, Sakura sighed. "You should have told me," she finished quietly and emphatically, and she hated hearing the hints of tearfulness in her own voice. "You should have."

She took advantage of his silence and stillness to rise from the armchair again, before crossing the distance between them and coming to stand at his side, wrapping her arms around him. Sakura felt Itachi stiffen and try to pull back, but she held on anyway. "I'm not going anywhere," she continued, her voice firm and unwavering. "I still think it's awful that you think it's okay to lie to the people you love, but I want to stay here. I know it'll be hard, but…"

They stayed motionless for a little while, and she could hear the rapid, stress-induced hammering of Itachi's heart. As terrible as it was of her to feel that way, Sakura was glad for it; it gave her something to focus on to prevent her from breaking down. She had thought this completely through on the way to River, and now, there was no doubt in her mind. She wasn't an idiot and she had lost most of her innocence and naiveté over the past months that she had spent with Itachi. Of course it…would be difficult to be with a person with a terminal illness. She was somewhat unprepared for it, too – her father's death had been so sudden, while he had been on a mission away from Konoha, and he had been the only person she knew who died.

At the same time, letting Itachi spend his last days alone was not an option either. He had spent every day since the Uchiha massacre punishing and tormenting himself, and he…he couldn't do that to himself any longer by insisting on being in solitude now. Not only that, but Sakura had a vague understanding of the ambiguous nature of their relationship. True to his personality, Itachi had never spoken a word to her about any sort of emotional connection on his part, but his actions had always led her to believe that he cared about her…and she wasn't too prideful to be open about how she felt towards him, regardless of whether it was reciprocated to the same degree or not.

Finally, Itachi looked down at her, and their gazes locked and held, and all the breath left his body in a resigned sigh as he glanced away. As it had always been in the time they had known one another, it was just so tempting to give in to her, as stubborn and persistent as she was. He had always viewed leaving Sakura behind and spending his last days in isolation as a practical necessity, but he had hardly relished the thought. He had viewed it as horribly selfish on his part to even consider the idea of Sakura being with him, but…it was undeniable that some part of him, a very vocal part, wanted that – wanted _her_; wanted not to be alone for once…for the one time it mattered – greatly.

"Nothing I can possibly say will change your mind."

Itachi's soft, unreadable statement-query hung in the air for a few moments before Sakura shook her head determinedly. "No. It won't."

Her breath caught in her throat as Itachi turned to her, and in an extraordinarily rare moment of expressiveness, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, holding her tightly and tilting his head downward in order to bury it in her hair. His muscles were painfully rigid, and she could feel his unsteady breaths and heartbeat. Sakura tentatively returned his embrace, more than a little bit stunned, and the impromptu gesture made her throat close over as she hugged him tighter. Despite the occasions when they had, well, made out and stuff, this was the first time Itachi had ever…ever just hugged her like this, allowing himself to so openly seek comfort. She could bet that this was the first time in years – maybe even since his mother, and the thought made her even sadder – that he had done this to anybody.

For the first time, they held on to each other for a long time, and when they finally, slowly withdrew, Itachi made no comment about how red her eyes were. He brushed the pad of his rough, calloused thumb against the sensitive skin right underneath her eye, watching her carefully, and as close as they were, Sakura could see the sorrow and regret in his eyes. "I should not have become involved with you," he said slowly, understanding the irony of it. The single selfish action he had indulged in his life after the massacre ended up having the most drastic consequences. "I apologize."

"Don't," she replied immediately, pained, and pulling away from him. "_Please._"

Itachi stopped, tilting his head slightly as he reached out and gently tangled his fingers into her hair. "This won't have the ending that you wanted, Sakura."

His statement was half a warning, as if he was doing something as trivial as telling her that the movie she had so desperately wanted to see had a trainwreck of an ending, and irrationally enough, the thought made Sakura want to laugh and cry at the same time. She wanted to try to explain to Itachi how much their brief relationship had taught her and how she wouldn't trade the few months of constant anxiety and conflict and worry that she'd had with him for…a long, peaceful, stable relationship with any other guy. At the same time, part of her still was still in shock, and wanted and needed to let herself feel the grief; to break down and cry just for how sick and unfair and _wrong _this was, and—

"I know," she whispered back. Too weary to even think about it, and at a loss for words, she leaned against him again, and vaguely, she felt Itachi's hand come to rest on her back.

Maybe tomorrow they could talk, and she could…acknowledge everything that had happened today. Today, she had to be strong and hold it together for both of them. Maybe in a little while they could make dinner together, eat it on the sofa, and try to enjoy each other's company and pretend it was just a normal night.

_You don't exactly have an unlimited amount of time, you know, _Inner Sakura reminded her, subdued, and Sakura closed her eyes, unwilling to register the words.

Tomorrow.

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

The next chapter will be the last of this story, followed by a short epilogue.

I also wanted to say – I know it's an unpopular move, killing Itachi, so I wanted to kind of explain my reasoning to anybody who might be interested. I love a happy ending as much as anybody, especially with Itachi and Sakura, but when I was originally coming up with the idea of this story and going through all of it in my head from start to finish, I thought of a hundred different ways I could have Itachi survive…but it just wouldn't be the same. There was a distinct message that I wanted to convey by the time I was done writing the last word of this story, and that message could never be conveyed if Itachi lived.

Before The Dawn was my ItaSaku happy ending story. I wrote it in a time of my life when I really needed a happy ending. I still do, but all this time, and the responses that some of you wrote back to me after my eighth-chapter author's note in Heartless made me realize something. I was lucky to have had my mom survive her sickness, but some of us have lost parents or other loved ones to cancer or other serious illnesses. Life doesn't always have happy endings. Truly tragic, seemingly unjust and inexplicable things happen to good people who don't deserve it, like Itachi, and innocent people can have the course of their lives changed and can be deeply affected by the loss of the people they love, like Sakura. This happens every day, and it's heartbreaking to think of, but it's the reality of the situation.

As always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. I would love to hear your thoughts.


	18. Endings

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was wonderful enough to leave a review. :)_

_Chapter Eighteen: Endings_

* * *

Despite the fact that it had been warm earlier in the day, the breeze that gusted through the trees now was cool enough to make Sakura shiver a little as she reached one hand up to rub the back of her neck self-consciously. Realizing what she was doing, she forced her hand back down and shifted the bags of tea and groceries in her arms, adjusting its position so that she could keep both of her hands occupied. She had to get used to it eventually, after all.

After several weeks of toying with the idea, she had finally done it today. This morning, her hair had fallen smoothly and perfectly evenly to the small of her back, as a testament to the four years she had spent carefully growing it out and maintaining it. Now, the ends barely brushed her shoulders. There were exactly nine inches gone, the majority of it chopped off the length, and the rest carefully and precisely 'layered', or whatever it was that the hairdresser had called it.

Sakura made her way up the steps of the small house and managed not to wince upon catching a glimpse of her blurred reflection in the glass-paned door. It wasn't as if the hairdresser at the small salon had done a bad job, or anything – it was just…new. Strangely, startlingly new.

Unable to resist the temptation, Sakura reached up and fingered the edges of her shorn locks, tilting her head appraisingly. It was definitely a drastic change, but it had been time. In any case, she could always view it as a little birthday present to herself. Otherwise, she had observed today quietly, careful not to mention it to Itachi. For the first time in her life, she hadn't looked forward to the day or celebrated it at all. She'd felt unsettled about it since the moment she woke up. It just seemed…unjust, really, that she had turned a year older today, and Itachi wouldn't get the chance to do the same.

The mere thought made her stomach knot up anew, and Sakura hastily fiddled with the key in the lock, trying to distract herself. Honestly, she was glad to have her birthday pass unrecognized. The most important thing was that the market actually had the rare kind of imported herbal tea that she had been searching for. It would be good for Itachi – the drugs that Tsunade-sama had given him had eliminated the worst pain, but he was still intensely fatigued and exhausted more often than not. She had instructed him to stay back and rest today. Overexertion would just shorten his—

She forced herself to shelve the thought and entered the house completely quietly, using her shinobi skills to remain as silent as humanly possible. Re-adjusting the bags in her arms again, Sakura made her way to the kitchen. The things needed refrigeration, and she was hungry too. She'd been out for hours longer than she had anticipated, between roaming the market and waiting at the salon. It was almost evening, and her stomach was growling insistently.

Mind now pleasantly and overwhelmingly occupied with thoughts of the leftover soba noodle salad in the fridge, Sakura turned the corner and stopped dead, startled at what she saw. Unable to believe her eyes, she tilted her head slightly, staring into the kitchen.

Itachi was standing serenely in front of the kitchen counter, his back to her as he carefully put the finishing touches on what appeared to be a strawberry cake with rich, thick white buttercream frosting. The smell was enough to make her mouth water, but Sakura just stood and stared, shocked. Distantly, her mind put two and two together and she realized that _this – _namely, the ingredients scattered all over the counter – was probably the reason why he had gone out 'to meditate' so early last morning, slipping out of bed before the sun had even risen fully.

Still, her attention was dominated by the meticulous way he smoothed out the frosting over the cake, careful to pristinely and smoothly cover every centimeter. Despite the fact that he had lost the majority of his eyesight, Itachi worked on it intently, the expression on his face one of unbelievably focused intensity. The image of _the _Itachi Uchiha, famous S-ranked and one of the most powerful shinobi in the world, frosting a cake with as much single-minded dedication as he brought to his life as a shinobi, was too much to handle. It was obvious how hard he was trying to make it look as perfect as possible, and even though she tried hard to stay unobtrusive, Sakura couldn't help the astonished sigh that left her as she leaned against the wall heavily, setting the bags of groceries down on the floor.

She saw the way Itachi's shoulders tensed for a moment in surprise before he turned to her, and Sakura shook her head disbelievingly, even though she was unsure of how well he'd be able to see her. "How did you know?"

Itachi didn't respond, merely setting down the frosting-laden knife, but Sakura smiled at him anyway, the expression feeling somewhat unfamiliar on her face, as she crossed over to give him a hug. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice muffled by the material of his shirt.

He remained still for a few moments before reciprocating and slowly wrapping his arms around her, still unused to such open displays of affection. When Sakura finally let go, blushing a little self-consciously, she turned toward the counter, gathering up Itachi's baking and frosting materials and dumping them in the sink in an attempt to calm herself and steady her breathing. She couldn't name a single one of the various emotions that were raging through her, and as perverse a reaction as it was, his unexpected gesture had upset her as much as it was touching.

Over the sound of the water, she could hear Itachi opening and closing drawers for some reason, and taking a deep, steadying breath, Sakura shut the tap off and turned around. Even though she thought she had been beyond any normal realm of surprise after walking in on him frosting the cake, her eyes widened a little as she realized what he had been doing. With his usual obsessive-compulsive neatness, Itachi had arranged sixteen candles on the cake, and was now standing back, quietly observing his work. It looked gorgeous against the black marble counter in the light of the setting sun.

Sakura came to stand at his side, and aside from the way Itachi took her hand for a brief moment, they simply stared at the cake a little bit awkwardly. She knew that Itachi would never do anything he considered as juvenile as telling her to make a wish and blow out her candles, and even though _she _knew she was probably too old for that kind of stuff, it was her instinct nevertheless, remembered from birthdays in happier days with her mother and father.

The pink-haired kunoichi edged a little closer to the cake, bracing her hands on the counter tentatively and leaning closer. She hesitated on the inhale, though, staring at the small-scale flickering of the candlelight. _Make a wish, Sakura. _

But…what could you possibly wish for, if the one thing you wanted most in life was out of your reach? More than anything else, she wanted – kami, with every fiber of her being – Itachi to be able to live and for them to be together. She wanted him to be here with her for her next birthday, and the next, and every single one after that – but that was out of anybody's control. Beyond any wish she could ever make.

Her eyes were burning, but Sakura took a shaky breath and blew out the candles anyway. The cake and the burnt candles swam before her eyes, making her close them tightly in order to prevent any tears from falling, and she vaguely felt Itachi's hand come to rest gently on her back.

"Happy birthday, Sakura," he murmured, before touching her hair almost shyly. She appeared to have her eyes closed as she breathed in the scent of the cake, but she smiled a little, and the sight made Itachi remember that he had once thought that shorter hair would be the only thing that would help her look even more beautiful than she already was. He had been right – although, if he remembered correctly, she hadn't been receptive to the idea at that time. He ran his fingers down the shortened length of her impossibly silky hair, and as she arched her neck back in response to the caress, it was clear what his question referred to. "…Why?"

Sakura shrugged one shoulder, looking up at him and holding his gaze. She wished she could, because when on the rare occasion that Itachi _did _open up, he was incredibly articulate, but she just couldn't find the words to convey to him the depth of her reasoning. When she thought about it, it was similar to what her motivations had been the first time she had chopped her hair off in the Forest of Death. It was just that she felt that she had grown up and matured significantly in the past several months, as a kunoichi and as a young woman. She had learned a lot about life and…well, yes, love. Her priorities had changed, as had the way that she looked at life. She wasn't an idealistic little twelve-year-old anymore, and it was time that that growth was reflected on the outside as well as on the inside. "It was just time, I think," she replied simply.

Itachi only nodded once, but as she usually did, Sakura had the unarguable sense that he understood exactly what she meant, even when she didn't use so many words to explain it to him. Her face relaxed into a smile, and she moved closer, leaning against him trustingly. "Thank you," she said again, trying with difficulty to convey all the heartfelt gratitude she felt, "for doing something so sweet."

Itachi leaned down, brushing the lightest of kisses against the top of her head, and he smoothed his hand down the skin of her upper arm, causing her to shiver pleasurably. "I am glad you liked it," he responded sincerely.

Their gazes locked and held for several long moments, neither of them willing to step away from each other. Sakura savored the familiar subtle yet electric tension between them, but she still made it a point to be the one to break it. She stretched up on the tips of her toes and wrapped her arms around Itachi's neck, gently pinning him against the counter and feeling his long, lean muscles against her body as she nipped playfully against the edge of his defined jawbone. In the past weeks that they had been here together, Itachi had become more accustomed to her usually unexpected advances, and he responded instinctively, holding her firmly by the waist as he took advantage of her upturned face in order to kiss her long and hard. Sakura sighed against his lips as his hands slipped under the hem of her vest, making her shiver at the feeling of his rough, calloused palms against her bare lower back. She slid her hands down to interlace at the back of his neck, her thumbs resting against the pulse point at either side of his neck, and she was pleased to find that his pulse was as fluttery as hers.

When Itachi finally let go, regarding her with an unusually warm expression in his eyes, Sakura turned her head to the side as she retrieved the knife, trying not to let the shy smile show on her face as she began to cut the cake. It had been such a sensitive, considerate gesture on his part. And even though she tried hard, she couldn't keep herself from thinking that that she would have loved to do the same for him someday.

* * *

With every day that passed – as the numerous slices of cake left in the refrigerator gradually dwindled until there was nothing left – it began to warm up more and more. There wasn't a calendar in the house, and Sakura lost track of the days after her birthday came and went. This was inconvenient on some level, but in a way, it was valuable anti-anxiety tool. It did a lot to help lessen the feeling of every day being almost like an ominous countdown to the thing that she dreaded most.

But the sun was still rising earlier in the mornings and setting later at night, most of the flowers were finally in bloom, and underneath the warm sunlight, the grass was getting greener and softer underfoot as time went on. The utter lack of structure was unsettling for her at first, but Sakura slowly found herself relaxing and coming to truly enjoy the newfound peace of their little domestic situation as much as Itachi did. It was strange, a little; this was the first time they had ever been around each other with no pressing, life-or-death issues to confront or run from. It was a taste of what life could have been like in the future for them, if things had worked out better.

The days passed in their own uneventful, unassuming pattern. She and Itachi spent their days and evenings walking around for hours – when he felt well enough – observing the beautiful River country. It hurt Sakura to realize it, but on the first day she had been there, they had walked side-by-side, a few paces apart, as they always had on their travels; both of them looking in different directions and observing totally different things and occasionally pointing something outstanding out to one another. It had happened gradually, over a period of weeks, but Itachi's pace had slowed, and one day he had been forced to reach for her hand to support him, and now more often than not, she would find herself describing things to him if they were in anything less than the brightest sunlight.

But it was all right, really, looking at the larger scheme of things. As it had happened, Itachi had finally begun to open up to her, little bit by little bit. He spoke in soft, fragmented sentences, sometimes punctuated by several minutes of thought, but Sakura hung on to every word regardless. He told her things about his past as a shinobi, and the indelible marks and scars it had left on him, too deep and internal to be healed by any amount of medical chakra. Sometimes he even gave her advice for the future, based on his own experiences – intensely cryptically phrased, of course, but still valuable. He never presumed to tell her what to do in her further pursuits as a kunoichi, but one afternoon in a rare moment of forthrightness, he told her that no matter how skilled of a medic-nin she became, to not go into ANBU.

Sakura had known better to ask why, but she absorbed all that Itachi had to say nevertheless. It was true, the saying '_still waters run deep_' – there was so much going on with him that she longed to know, and that she thought he could impart to her, and such a limited time to find out. It just seemed impossible to think that someday she would wake up and have a question or a problem or thought or _something _and he would not be there to listen or help her think through things in his calm, rational, quiet manner.

For now, though, it was…well, _nice _wasn't the right word, but it came close enough. Spending time with him during the day and more often than not, falling asleep curled up together on the sofa at night. Sakura could tell that Itachi enjoyed being left to be at peace for the first and only time in his life, and while she loved and treasured the time that they spent together…it was impossibly hard, at the same time, just living with the knowledge that their time together was being cut so short. Some days she could keep this feeling at bay enough to try and savor the time they had left, but some days felt like she was fighting a losing battle to stay afloat in the depression that was threatening to pull her under.

Today had been one of those days, and Sakura pulled her finger away from the edge of the frying pan with a stifled hiss of pain. For the first night ever, she had tried to make dinner. Rice with stir-fried cabbage – simple, but apparently one of Itachi's favorites. Itachi had been surprisingly reluctant to let her near the stove, and had done an oddly uncanny – albeit very reserved – impression of a worried mother duck before she had kicked him out of the kitchen. The pink-haired kunoichi eyed the food apprehensively as she scraped the slightly burnt-looking cabbage out on top of the bowls of rice. It was nothing compared to the picture in the cookbook, but at least it looked…sort of edible.

Carefully balancing the bowls in both hands, Sakura made her way to the living room. Itachi was resting on the sofa, looking out the window, and every so often, his shoulders shook with small, silent coughs. He sat up a little straighter when she came into view, though, and he raised an eyebrow when she pressed the bowl into his hands with a rather supercilious look on her face. "See, I did it without burning the house down. It doesn't take a genius like you to make cabbage, Uchiha."

Itachi eyed her a little suspiciously as she threw herself down next to him, digging her fork into her burnt cabbage and taking an enthusiastic bite. "Yes, but you burned your hand on the pan."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "I'll be fine. The few moments of pain that I felt in the process of making it in no way corrupted the sanctity of the food."

They ate in silence, both of them too immersed in picking the charred bits out of the healthy cabbage for further conversation, and finally, Sakura set her bowl aside and curled up against Itachi with a contented sigh, resting her head against his upper arm. Even though he was still eating, in a rare moment of normally demonstrative behavior, he readjusted his arm to wrap around her shoulders, pulling her closer. She was too busy enjoying the unexpected reaction to immediately notice the way Itachi's breath caught in his throat for a fraction of a second before he almost sighed – what he usually did when he was hesitating before speaking.

"This was all I ever wanted."

His voice was so quiet she could barely hear it, and Sakura turned abruptly, somewhat unable to believe what she thought she had just heard. Before she could tentatively ask for clarification, Itachi continued, the expression in his eyes distant, even though he was still holding her close. "All the talk about my intellect and my skills, and how I would go so far, meant nothing to me," he said softly. "All I wanted was a simple, unassuming desk job as a tactician or strategist, and to look out for Sasuke…and, maybe, to someday find somebody else whom I could love and protect. I just wanted a quiet, peaceful life."

Itachi fell silent and stayed silent, and Sakura opened her mouth, but the words stuck in her throat and refused to come out. Her chest felt tight and her eyes burned with the realization of how sickeningly unfair life – fate – whatever – could be. But there was nothing to say; nothing to mitigate the damage that had been done – nothing that could undo everything that had already been done and give him, and _them_, a second chance. So she stayed silent too, looking down at the carpet, listening to the soft clink of Itachi's fork against the porcelain bowl as he ate, and biting her lip so hard that it almost bled.

* * *

Itachi awoke with a start.

It was dark, but that didn't tell him much, as now, more often than not, it was always dark. He kept his eyes open until he slowly deduced that firstly, it had been approximately a few hours since he and Sakura had come in here to sleep, and secondly, he was now alone. The initial guess, based on the fact that he couldn't feel her slender, petite frame curled against him as she had when she had fallen asleep, or hear her breathing, was confirmed by a cautious sweep of his hand against her side of the bed. Aside from the rumpled blanket, there was nothing.

He felt weary and physically ill to the point where even sitting up was an effort that robbed him of breath for a few moments, and the act of pulling himself to his feet made Itachi's head spin so much that he nearly collapsed again. Between the darkness of the night and his deteriorated vision, he could barely even see his own hand in front of his face, but he forced himself to stay standing. Moving slowly and carefully, guiding himself with one hand against the wall, Itachi made his way through the small house, searching for her.

His first instinct and automatic assumption was that she had become hungry and gone to get something to eat, but after a careful inspection of the area, it became clear Sakura wasn't in the kitchen. Now feeling slightly bemused, Itachi checked the nearest bathroom and the next few rooms in that area of the house, and upon finding them deserted as well, his confusion became strong enough for the faintest hints of the emotion to show on his face. Sakura was hardly an unpredictable person, and such behavior – getting out of bed in the middle of the night and wandering around without provocation – was completely uncharacteristic on her part. Worry tensed his muscles, causing him to unconsciously quicken his pace. For the first time, he felt anger at how weakened and helpless he had become, and his jaw tightened in response to the tension. Sakura was missing, and when he would once have been able to find her in the blink of an eye, he was now reduced to taking baby steps around the house, relying on his hands to see.

It took another few minutes of patient observation and listening, but Itachi finally stopped in front of what he believed was the second bathroom, his fingers resting tentatively on the closed door. At first, there was only silence, but then he heard it; so quiet that it was barely audible at all. A hitched breath, a muffled whimper, and then, finally, a soft, broken sob.

Hearing Sakura cry triggered the same visceral reaction as it had once before, and the wave of intense sorrow mingled with guilt swept over him instantaneously. At some level, Itachi understood that this kind of grieving process was natural and normal for anybody was going to lose a loved one, but whether it was a cut on Sasuke's knee, or Katsumi crying because she believed the clan thought her worthless, or his mother's distress at the activities and plans of the Uchiha clan elders and the conflict of her own loyalties…he had always hated to see the ones he loved in pain. It was especially difficult with Sakura, considering the knowledge that _he _had been the one to directly cause her such heartache and anguish.

Inexplicably, Itachi thought of his inadvertent confession to her while they had been eating, and his lips tightened in a grimace as he berated himself for his foolishness, and for not knowing the effect those words would have on her. As far as he could tell, in the time they had spent together, this was the first time that Sakura had allowed herself to fully comprehend the implications of what was going to happen to him and respond to the intense level of stress and sorrow that she felt. It was obvious that she had deliberately chosen the place in the house farthest away from their bedroom to be her retreat for a reason, but even though he knew she wanted privacy, he couldn't find it within himself to hear her like this and walk away. The door was unlocked, but as soon as Itachi quietly stepped inside, he heard Sakura's breath catch in her throat. "Go away," she said, her voice so choked with tears that he could tell that she had been crying for quite some time. "Please."

This close, he could see her clearer than he could anything else. Sakura sat on the edge of the tub, hastily trying to wipe the tears away from her face, as she turned away from him, her first thought to keep him from seeing her moment – or, more accurately, the evidence of her half-hour plus – of weakness. Still, Itachi gingerly sat down next to her, and despite her efforts to shy backwards, he reached out to her, brushing her hair out of her face and the tears away from her cheeks with infinite gentleness as he said her name quietly. The tender gesture only made her choke up again, dissolving into tears, and even though she tried to twist away, she was vaguely conscious of Itachi wrapping his arms around her, holding her close and letting her rest her aching head against his neck.

Too tired to resist him, she cried so hard that she could barely breathe, hating herself for losing control like this and more than that, hating the circumstances in life that had driven them to this. Through it all, Itachi stroked her back, the softness of his touch offering her more comfort than any words, and after what felt like hours, when she was too weary even to cry any longer, Sakura simply held on to him, bracing her forehead against his shoulder. "Sorry," she whispered hoarsely.

"…There is no need to apologize, Sakura."

All the breath left Sakura's body in a long sigh as she closed her red, swollen, painful eyes. Sure, she was only sixteen, but she had the feeling that she wasn't being trite or shallow or misguided when she thought that in a way, despite his faults and their differences, he was perfect for her. She didn't want to lose him.

"I wish it was Sasuke," she managed, her voice still choked. "Not you. You don't deserve this."

Itachi stiffened, his blood running cold in response to her soft words, and he pulled away, looking down at her sharply. "Don't say that."

"Why?" she maintained stubbornly, wiping her eyes again. "I really mean it. And don't tell me that I don't."

Itachi sighed, and after a moment of hesitation, he took her hand, searching for the right words to explain it to her. As much as he hated the thought, he knew that Sakura was sincere in her statement, and that wasn't what he wanted for her or for Sasuke. "After all I have been through for my younger brother," he admitted, finally, trying to explain, "it would be the worst possible punishment if he died. The fact that, after all of this, Sasuke is still alive, and that he is out of Orochimaru's grasp – it makes my life an acceptable price to pay."

He looked at her, obviously expecting her to understand – but he was so wrong. It _wasn't. _Sakura sighed, frustrated, and wrapped her arms around herself unhappily. Usually, when she and Itachi disagreed, she could at least kind of see the logic behind what he was saying, but as hard as she tried now, she just couldn't make sense of his feelings. "I don't understand," she said flatly.

Itachi closed his eyes for a moment, deep in thought. Perhaps it was necessary to take smaller steps. "Romantic love is the most…romanticized type of love," he said, wincing at his awkward word choice, and Sakura blinked at the apparent non sequitur. "It is the thing that poetry is most frequently written about. When many people think of the concept of love, it is the first idea that occurs in their mind. This is valid, but at the same time, the love that one can have for a sibling or parent is unparalleled." He paused, his gaze seeking hers. Sakura had always purposefully avoided talking about her family and earlier life, so he didn't know whether she had ever experienced sentiments of that nature. Considering her compassionate nature, it was highly doubtful that she had not, but there was still a chance. "Do you…?"

His words brought back all the memories of her father's death and the time afterwards, and Sakura looked away, pained. She had never been close enough to her older brother to understand the depths of the devotion that siblings could have to one another, but her father's death had caused her mother to fall into a depression so deep that it had completely and irrevocably changed her from the person that she had been before, turning her into an empty shell of who she once was. And she had just been a child then; beyond the understanding that the loss of someone whom you loved so deeply could do that to you. Sakura remembered desperately thinking that she would give up her arms and her legs for her father to miraculously come back home and for her mother to be all right again. She would have happily disappeared from the face of the earth if it meant that her father would return.

All the breath left her body in a shaky sigh, and Sakura leaned her head against Itachi's shoulder. "Yeah," she managed quietly and truthfully. "I guess…I guess that I do."

Itachi drew back, looking at her seriously. "Then do not grieve for me, Sakura."

Sakura couldn't help but laugh a little bitterly, imitating his style of speech as she turned away. "Do not ask too much of me, Itachi."

In response, Itachi just intertwined their fingers together, and they sat in silence for a long time, finally reaching their moment of understanding.

* * *

Time passed – steadily, relentlessly, mercilessly. Thankfully, that night in the bathroom had been cathartic enough to have given her an odd sense of temporary peace, but underneath it all, there was still the sickeningly familiar feeling of dread and anxiety. If she stood still long enough, she would feel it.

Sakura cursed mentally, half-heartedly lifting her short hair even further off the back of her neck and piling it against the back of her head as she continued trudging up the path toward the house, looking up at the blue, cloudless sky balefully. She had gone out to the town and Itachi had stayed back, as he hadn't been feeling well, but what she was _feeling _right now was the heat. True, it was nowhere near as hot here temperature-wise as Konoha would be, but due to the presence of the large bodies of water everywhere, it was more of a gross, damp, humid heat. The dry heat of Konoha was infinitely more bearable.

With a sigh of exasperation, Sakura let go of her hair and looked back toward the path and the distant figure of the house again, and all traces of languid relaxation suddenly left her face as she felt her muscles stiffening up in alarm. What the hell _was _that? It definitely hadn't been there a few minutes ago. She was far enough away for the figure to only be a tiny, dark-clad blot, appearing out of the bordering forest and making its way up the path, but—

Her mind filled in the blanks in an instant. This definitely wasn't an innocuous traveler. That path only led up to the house, and from what she could see, the newcomer was moving quickly and purposefully, and she could sense chakra emanating from his general area. There was always the chance that it could be a shinobi who had somehow received word that an Akatsuki member had been sighted in the area and now sought to eliminate that particular perceived threat to their village. In their eyes, it would be a brilliant, unprecedented opportunity.

It only took a fraction of a second and one quick, skillful pulse of chakra for Sakura to materialize the miles up to the house, appearing in front of the shinobi and blocking his path to the house, armed with a kunai.

It took a brief moment for her to realize who was in front of her, though, and Sakura saw her own shocked expression reflected in Sasuke's equally stunned gaze. Her heart actually skipped a beat, and both of them stepped backwards at the same time, eyeing each other warily. The sudden tension that she felt in her body was echoed in his frame, but she fought to regain her composure first, refusing to let him gain the upper hand. "Why are you here?" she asked firmly, her tone demanding a reply.

Unsurprisingly, Sasuke didn't respond, instead averting his eyes from her. He tried to move past her, but Sakura blocked his way, not releasing her kunai. She was fairly sure it wasn't healthy to feel this kind of anger every time she looked at his face, but the memory of their last interaction was still strong in her mind. "You had better not be here to rub salt in his wounds one last time," she said bitterly. "It seems like the kind of selfish, vindictive thing you would do. But if you are…"

She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, and Sasuke actually looked startled for a moment, but he finally, slowly shook his head. He seemed oddly reluctant to talk, and to look her in the eye. Something in his manner was different in a way she couldn't put her finger on, and the pink-haired kunoichi hesitated. Again unlike his usual behavior, Sasuke hadn't yet forced his way past her, but was still standing in front of her, almost as if he was waiting for her to allow him to enter. Sakura's instincts told her to give him a chance – her secret optimist's heart fluttering with impossibly idealistic thoughts of Sasuke choosing to act on the advice she had given him last time they had seen each other – but…

Sakura hesitated for several long moments, conflicted, before she finally, warily stood aside, watching him like a hawk. "Fine," she said shortly, hoping she wouldn't regret this. "Go."

Sasuke stepped past her, moving to walk up the steps, but he suddenly stopped dead, and confused, Sakura noticed the obvious indecision in his body language before he finally made up his mind. "Sakura," he said quietly, turning back and meeting her nonplussed gaze. "I understand if you're still angry at me, but…I apologize for what I said to you that day."

It took the words – the _apology_; the first he had ever given her – a few moments to register; they were that unprecedented, but Sakura was so taken aback by the unparalleled sincerity of his words that she was too tongue-tied to do anything but nod. She turned away, her back to the door, her mind still numb with disbelief, as she heard Sasuke slowly walk up the stairs, and finally, the soft opening and shutting of the door.

It took her a few moments to recover, but then came the curiosity, burning at every fiber of her being. She turned back and looked at the door indecisively, wondering what—

She could, technically, eavesdrop. It would be as simple as sitting on the roof and directing enough chakra to her inner ears; she could hear every single word that they were saying.

After several moments of staring, though, Sakura took a deep breath and finally forced herself to walk away, into the forest that bordered the house, giving Itachi and Sasuke their privacy.

* * *

Sakura trained for hours, harder than she had in several weeks. She worked with weapons, trying to improve her general six-out-of-ten accuracy to at least a seven with shuriken and an eight with kunai. She practiced her chakra control and the massive physical strength it entailed as much as she could without causing excessive damage to the area. She did speed drills through the trees, improving her time by three seconds and her endurance by several miles, until her leg muscles felt like they were on fire. And after all that, she worked a healing jutsu on a critically injured hare that she found in the depths of the forest, until it was able to hop away in perfect condition.

The pink-haired kunoichi finally collapsed on the forest floor, bracing her back against a tree trunk and stretching her legs out in front of her. She was panting so hard that she could barely breathe, and also found that she was covered with sweat, as she lifted one hand wearily and drew the back of it against her damp forehead. Every single one of her muscles was hopelessly sore, and Sakura looked up at the sky, then back at the house exhaustedly. She had been out here for hours. The sun had long since set, and unless she had missed something, she hadn't seen Sasuke do as much as set a single foot outside of the house.

Her curiosity, held at bay by the rigorous and punishing training session, now returned at full force. It had been such a long time…

Even though her muscles protested at the mere thought of standing up and walking the few steps necessary to get back to the house, Sakura forced herself to do it anyway, staggering slightly as she did so. She entered the house quietly and cautiously – it was totally silent – and then peered into each of the rooms she passed, unsure of what to expect.

It didn't take her long to find Itachi and Sasuke, sitting in the living room, but when she finally came across them, she just stopped and stared, momentarily taken aback by the sight and almost unable to believe her own eyes.

_Hallucination from exhaustion? _Inner Sakura managed weakly, but Sakura actually shook her own head a little in response to the query from her inner self, still staring wide-eyed, and utterly lost for words. There was no way. But there it was, right in front of her own eyes.

Sasuke was leaning against Itachi, sound asleep, his chin propped up on Itachi's shoulder. The pure trust in his pose was evident just by looking at him, and there was absolutely no question about what had transpired between them in the past few hours. _So he did come here to make peace, _Inner Sakura observed, sounding just as astonished as Sakura felt. _I can't believe it…but I guess we should have given him more credit._

Sakura hardly listened, though, stunned by how…well, young, and unguarded, and strangely softened, that Sasuke looked. In so many years of knowing him, she had never seen him like this. It gave her the slightest glimpse of what he might have been like, if Itachi had never been given the orders to kill the clan.

Her gaze finally shifted a little upwards, and Sakura saw that Itachi was still awake, staring off into the distance. His expression was unreadable, but she saw how red his eyes were, and the sight made her chest constrict. She couldn't even imagine how much it would have meant to him, truly reconciling with Sasuke before it was too late, and the gratitude that she felt was nearly overpowering. She took a step backwards, not wanting to disturb them, but her movement made the floorboards creak loudly. She winced, but the sound was enough for Itachi to notice her lingering hesitantly by the door, and he tilted his head a little bit, indicating that she should come closer.

Sakura joined them, sitting down tentatively so as not to disturb Sasuke. Even though she and Itachi stayed silent for his sake, she gave Itachi a small, heartfelt smile – he looked so tired, but more content than she had ever seen him – trying to convey how genuinely happy she was for him. She stretched herself out on the other half of the sofa, turning on her side and lowering her head to rest on his lap, and after a few moments, she felt his hand come to rest on her head, his fingers gently twining into her hair.

Sakura sighed quietly, closing her eyes, and she couldn't help but think of the newfound trust in which Sasuke obviously regarded Itachi. It gave her such a warm, pleasant feeling inside. As bad as it made her feel to admit it, for Itachi's sake…she had never thought she would see the day that the two of them would make peace. She still wished it would have come sooner, of course; that life's circumstances hadn't split them apart in the first place, and that they had more time to spend together.

But at the very least, looking at it realistically…it was a small blessing that it had happened at all. The thought gave her some measure of comfort – more than she had received in a long time – and holding on to it, Sakura relaxed her body, letting herself give in to sleep.

* * *

It was pretty late in the morning and they had all gotten several hours of rest, but Sakura still yawned for the third time into her cup of blueberry tea. It was a little frustrating – Itachi didn't seem to be suffering from the same degree of exhaustion; he stood outside, carefully dispensing birdseed into the birdhouse hanging from the branches of the small tree in the front yard, and neither did Sasuke, who was making his way around the kitchen, quickly and efficiently packing food for his trip back to Konoha.

Remembering that she was supposed to be helping him, Sakura set her cup of tea down on the kitchen table hastily. "Do you want some leftover stir-fried noodles with chicken?" she asked, looking over at him. "It's filling and it tastes good cold."

Sasuke shook his head once. "I have enough."

They packed the plastic containers of food back into his small travel pack, standing close together in front of the kitchen sink, before Sasuke sighed, speaking up abruptly. "I wanted to stay, but he said it wouldn't be good for me."

Sakura raised an eyebrow wryly, remembering being on the receiving end of that speech. "Been there, done that. So, how long did Itachi try and convince you to knock me out and drag me along as well?"

Sasuke actually smirked at her a little, confirming her suspicions, but kept quiet. He pulled his pack onto his shoulders after checking the straps a few times, and they finally faced one another a little awkwardly. Sakura was all too conscious of the fact that they wouldn't see each other again until after…after Itachi had gone and she returned to Konoha, and she knew that Sasuke understood that as well.

"Be safe," she managed at last, staring at his shoulder. Regardless of what had happened between them in the past, he had really surpassed her expectations with this gesture; really done the right thing, and that made her happy. "And…Sasuke…I'm really glad that you came."

Sasuke nodded, looking as uncomfortable as she felt, and obviously unsure of what to say. After a few moments, he opened his mouth, closed it again, and then finally, inexplicably, patted her on the arm once, before turning around and leaving.

Through the window, she could see Sasuke approach Itachi, and the way that the brothers exchanged words. Finally, Itachi reached out to Sasuke, gently poking him on the forehead and sweeping the hair away from where it hung over his eyes as he said something, the tender expression visible on his face. Sasuke looked pained like she had never seen him before, as he stared up at Itachi wordlessly, and Sakura turned away, unable to bear it any longer, as the two of them embraced.

It felt like a long time before Itachi returned again. She busied herself with cleaning up the leftovers Sasuke hadn't needed, trying to do something, anything, to keep herself occupied so that she couldn't dwell on the sadness of what she had just seen. Wordlessly, Itachi joined her in the cleaning as soon as he entered the kitchen, and Sakura managed to stay respectfully silent for a while, until the quiet just became too much. She wanted to get both of their minds off what had just happened.

"So," she said, drawing the word out as she dried the last plate and put it in the cupboard, before spinning to face Itachi. "What did you two talk about for so long?"

Itachi regarded her very seriously for a few long moments. "You," he replied, his tone absolutely inscrutable. "For five hours straight. More specifically, how to win your heart. Sasuke was curious, and it was my duty as an older brother to help him in any way possible."

There were a few long moments of ominous silence in the kitchen as Sakura froze, going as still as a statue, before her face turned very red and she punched him in the arm. _Damn _Itachi and his flawless poker face. "I thought I already told you that you had a horrible sense of humor and to not make jokes anymore!" she raged. "That is _so _not funny!"

Itachi just smirked, obviously very pleased with himself, and despite her best efforts to sulk, Sakura couldn't keep herself from smiling, enjoying their rare moment of levity. "Joke or not, that was just _tactless, _Uchiha," she finally threatened, turning her back on him. "If anything remotely of that nature was _seriously _talked about even once, I swear I will—"

Itachi made a small, amused noise in the back of his throat as he cornered her, lightly pinning her against the counter with his chest to her back and then kissed her on the top of the head. "Relax, Sakura."

Sakura scowled playfully, turning around and facing him, leaning back against the counter. "Fine. So what else is on the agenda for today, honorable would-be matchmaker?"

"My partner Kisame will likely arrive at some point in order to help me…" Itachi paused, searching for the most tactful yet vague way to word it. "Arrange certain things."

Sakura still flinched, but she nodded apprehensively. Kisame had been on temporary leave from the Akatsuki when she and Itachi had first met, and apparently he had just returned. From what she had always heard about Kisame from Sasuke and Suigetsu, he was a former Mist-nin who was apparently incredibly powerful, but also bloodthirsty, depraved, insane, and generally horrible…but she had to admit that the two of them must have had their own biases. After all, from the rare bits of information that Itachi had disclosed about his partner, it was clear that the two of them had a deep amount of genuine respect for one another, and even considered each other friends – which was a rare sentiment among the partnerships in the Akatsuki, apparently. And she doubted that Itachi, as secretly good-hearted as he was, would befriend a complete psycho.

Still, Sakura went outside again for her own sake a little bit before Kisame was scheduled to arrive and repeated the same training routine as she had yesterday, although this time, she was a little bit more distracted. She couldn't help but wonder how exactly Kisame was going to help Itachi…get his affairs in order, and she had the sneaking suspicion that a lot of what Itachi wanted to deal with had to do with Madara Uchiha.

Again, it ended up being a few hours before Sakura finally left the forest, rubbing her sore upper arms wearily. Unsure of whether Itachi and Kisame were done, and really unwilling to overhear the details of any Akatsuki business that would probably only keep her up at night, she sank down on the top step, lifting her hands and examining the vast array of newly-formed calluses on them with a look of satisfaction. There was probably a time, as recent as six months ago, when she would have been mortified to see her hands in this state; deeming it far too unfeminine to ever be attractive. But strong – as in, ripping trees out of the ground and shattering beds of solid limestone into dust – was sexy too, as confirmed by the look of approval in Itachi's eyes he watched her displays of such enormous strength, and any guy who didn't share the same opinion probably wasn't worth her time.

Sakura was too immersed in carefully healing the few ligaments she had bruised in her left ankle to immediately recognize the sound of the door opening and shutting, but the sudden, heavy creak of the polished, white-painted wooden floorboards drew her attention as she sat up straight. That was…_way _too heavy to belong to Itachi.

She swallowed over her suddenly dry throat, but, reminding herself that she was a strong kunoichi and she really wouldn't be attacked, anyway, Sakura stood up and turned to face the newcomer, unable to keep herself from wincing upon putting weight on her not quite fully healed ankle.

…Itachi had given her a bit of a…a _human _perspective on Kisame, yes, but as Sakura looked up – and up, and _up _– until she finally met his gaze, she couldn't keep herself from feeling more than a little nervous. He was as unsettlingly predatory and shark-like as she had been told, and she had to fight the urge to take a step away from him, not because of his manner, per say, but the massive sword strapped to his back just made her uneasy from even looking at it. Her chakra was practically trembling. This guy would have been really, _really _bad news if they had met for the first time on opposing sides of a battlefield…and hopefully, they wouldn't in the future. Ever.

For his part, Kisame eyed Sakura appraisingly, noting her tremendous reserves of chakra – practically unheard of, for one so…small – and equally precise degree of chakra control. She had gone pale at the sight of him, but stood her ground – impressive – although she actually flinched when he broke the tension with a short, sharp laugh. "I shouldn't have been surprised," he said, by way of greeting. "Only someone truly exceptional could have gotten Itachi's notice."

The words surprised her, and Sakura fidgeted, somewhat unsure of what to say. "Thanks?"

Some of the mirth left Kisame's odd features, and he met her gaze evenly. She wasn't sure whether she imagined it or not, but for a fraction of a second, she thought that she could see a little bit of sympathy there. "If you need any help, kid, at any time…you can get in touch with me by using Itachi's Akatsuki ring. He'll show you how."

Sakura nodded, hating his purpose in telling her this even as she appreciated him for it, and without further ado, Kisame turned and made his way back inside – presumably to say goodbye to his partner of seven years, for the last time. She could only imagine how that would affect them. She had come to realize that S-class criminals had feelings, too, and it hadn't escaped her; how grave and weary Kisame had looked. Her and Kisame's interaction had been so abrupt and brief, but it had made her realize all over again how _real _this all was. This peaceful interlude wouldn't last forever, as…Itachi was slowly approaching the end, and that was undeniable.

She sat down again, now feeling rather numb, and hugged her knees close to her chest. As difficult as it was, she had to resolve not to let that thought drag her down even deeper into depression. There was nothing to do to change things, so they just had to try their hardest to enjoy the time they had left.

* * *

Her stomach growled insistently, but Sakura masked the sound with a groan, turning over and burying her head in the pillow to keep from having to face the brilliant light of the setting sun, which was currently streaming in, brightly and mercilessly, through the window. "I don't _want _to."

Even after the intimacy of what they had recently done, and the way this paled in comparison, Sakura shivered with pleasure at the feeling of Itachi's hand caressing the length of her bare back. "You can't starve out of sheer laziness, Sakura," he pointed out matter-of-factly, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "The kitchen is only three rooms away."

Sakura kicked halfheartedly in the general direction of his body. "Don't be slanderous. I'm not lazy." She batted her eyelashes, even though he couldn't see it, affecting an exaggeratedly sultry tone that really just came out sounding ridiculous. "You just tired me out."

She was rewarded by an openly amused-sounding scoff – which, for Itachi, was the equivalent of bursting out into hysterical laughter – as he drew back, and she felt the bed shift, indicating that he had sat up. After rubbing her eyes, Sakura did so as well, reaching for her discarded bra and hooking it back on, arching her back as she did so. She caught a glimpse of Itachi pulling on his shirt as he sat on the other side of the bed, and as she pulled up the zipper on her vest, the catch of metal against metal seeming rather loud in the silence that had fallen over them, she bit her lip contemplatively.

It wasn't – well, it wasn't the fact that they'd had sex that made her feel like this. It certainly wasn't the first time that they had done it since she had joined him in River, although, as much as it embarrassed her to admit it, she thought of this most often when, or after, they did.

She waited, torn with indecision and her heart in her throat, until the very instant that Itachi was about to rise, fully dressed again. Making up her mind in a split second, Sakura moved across the bed and pounced on him with a little more force than she had intended, wrapping her arms around her shoulders from behind and pressing her chest against his back; burying her forehead against the ponytail that lay at the nape of his neck.

Itachi stiffened, surprised by the sudden embrace, but Sakura held on, closing her eyes and partially unable to believe what she was about to do. "I love you," she said, a little bit too fast, and barely able to hear her own words over the pounding of her heart. All the words that had been confused sounding even in her head, inadequate to sum up the depth of the emotions she felt, sounded even more confused coming out of her mouth, but she couldn't stop herself now. "And…I – I wanted to thank you for everything. I'm glad that you were my first and even though we should have had more time together, you've taught me a lot about – relationships and life and love and all kinds of things and I'm thankful for that."

Sakura stopped abruptly, unaware that she was holding him tight enough to leave bruises due to her own nerves. The words hung between them heavily and uncomfortably, and she felt oddly queasy. Not with regret or anything, but…it was just that she had wanted to not make herself so vulnerable to a man again, since the repeated crash and burn failures and humiliations that were Sasuke, but at the same time…she had felt like it was important that Itachi know this.

Sakura couldn't see Itachi's face, but his muscles were tenser than she had ever felt them, and she drew back a little, unsure of what she had just done. "I wasn't fishing for a response, or anything," she finished hastily, but sincerely. "I'm not. I promise. I just wanted you to know."

Itachi could hear the genuine quality of her confession, but still, he remained silent and still, staring at the polished wooden floors; unsure of how to respond. He understood that there was an expected response for this kind of statement, but he couldn't. For some reason, he just couldn't. A lifetime of the strictest emotional repression possible could not be rescinded in a few months, and he simply could not formulate the words that Sakura was probably longing to hear.

Sakura let go of him, accepting of the limitations and barriers that were still present in his nature and probably always would have been there, but in the next instant, her breath caught in her throat as Itachi turned back to her. Without saying a word, he leaned forward, gently resting his forehead against hers. Their breath mingled, and they were close enough to kiss, but Itachi just stayed there, and Sakura closed her eyes contentedly, surprised by the sense of happiness that flooded through her.

It wasn't the perfect verbal confession of love that she had always dreamed of, first from Sasuke and then from Itachi – but whatever he was expressing to her, it was heartfelt and genuine and it made her feel warm from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

Yes, it certainly wasn't what she had expected, but it was enough to leave Sakura feeling truly peaceful and fulfilled, somehow unlike she had ever felt before.

* * *

By the time a week and a half had passed, the hot days began to give way to the beginning of the seasonal monsoon storms. Itachi had been able to smell the impending rainstorm in the air for the majority of the past two days, but too late, he realized that he had forgotten to impart this knowledge to the outdoors-loving Sakura – a realization triggered by her despairing sigh as he heard her pull the curtains open. Presumably, she was staring out the window at the stormclouds that should have been gathering in the dark sky. "Ugh, Itachi, you wouldn't believe it. It was sunny earlier, but now it looks like it's probably going to rain by the morning…"

"I was aware."

The curtain rustled, and Itachi assumed that Sakura had turned and was now fixing him with a disbelieving stare. She was too far away to touch, but he could imagine her pose – her right hand on her hip, her eyebrows raised. "How?" she asked, nonplussed, and the curtains rustled again as she likely drew them back in place. His thoughts were confirmed as Sakura came to join him – by way of throwing herself on the bed and standing on the edge of it on her knees in front of him, if the fact that her voice now sounded eye-level was any indication.

He reached out almost imperceptibly, seeking confirmation, and Sakura responded by throwing her arms around his neck. Itachi couldn't help but smile just a little at her demonstrative nature, leaning forward and brushing his nose against hers for the briefest of moments. "Can you not smell it in the air?"

Sakura just sighed. "Even completely missing one of your two most crucial five senses, you're still a more observant shinobi than me," she said wryly, even as she reached up to brush her fingers against his eyelids with a feather-light touch.

Itachi remained still, trusting her enough to let her touch him when he still felt strangely vulnerable, but he jerked backward slightly out of surprise when he felt Sakura's touch drift downward, curiously lingering on the necklace he always wore, and tracing the abstract metallic circles.

"What is this, anyway?" Sakura asked curiously. It was so…simple, but almost pretty at the same time. She had noticed it the very first time they had laid eyes on each other, and she had always meant to ask about it, but it had always slipped her mind…and, okay, maybe she didn't want to hear the answer. She'd often wondered who gave it to him, as Itachi really didn't seem the type to purchase such a thing for himself, and if she were to be completely honest with herself, she _had _occasionally – okay, well, more than occasionally – wondered whether it was a gift from an ex-girlfriend or something like that. It certainly seemed to be significant to him; he never took it off. "I've never seen you without it."

Against her will, Sakura held her breath, watching him expectantly and halfway bracing herself for the answer, even though part of her knew that it was stupid to be jealous. Itachi stayed silent for a few moments, and then he sighed, the expression on his face unreadable. "It is an Uchiha family heirloom, traditionally passed on from mother to oldest son."

The answer was certainly not what she had expected, and Sakura nodded at once, silently prompting him to continue. Belatedly, she remembered, a slight blush coming to her cheeks. "Tell me more?" she asked, fascinated.

Itachi was acutely aware that he hadn't spoken about this to anybody, not even Kisame, since the night that his mother had given the necklace to him – but, in all fairness, he understood that he had nothing to lose by being honest about it, especially to Sakura. "It has been in the family for countless generations," he responded, after a few moments. "My grandmother gave it to my father, and my father gave it to my mother when he decided that she was the one he wanted to marry…the only one whom he could see himself loving and being truly happy with."

Itachi hesitated, his voice softening almost imperceptibly as the memory of his mother telling him this story returned. It had been seven long years ago, but tonight, it felt as if it was just yesterday. "She was only sixteen at that point, and my father was five years older than her, but this necklace…" he reached up, brushing his own fingers against it lightly. "It is more significant than any engagement ring or verbal proposal. My mother told me that it signified an unbreakable, enduring promise, stating that when the time was right, the giver and the wearer would be married. My mother married my father four years later."

Sakura gazed at him, enthralled. She knew that all of Konoha's ancient clans had their own traditions, but this was the first one, aside from the Yamanaka's, that she'd actually heard. "It's so romantic," she said at last, unable to conceal the surprise in her voice. "Especially in light of…everything else you've told me about your clan." She couldn't help but imagine the younger Fugaku (whom she envisioned as a sterner-looking version of Itachi) giving it to a flustered Mikoto, on the banks of the river that ran through the Uchiha Compound. The thought made her feel strangely melancholy, despite the sweetness of the image in her mind's eye. They must have been a loving, happy couple in their own time…unable to ever foresee the tragic end that lay in store for them.

Itachi inclined his head slightly. "Mothers – as my mother did for me – then passed the necklace on to their oldest son when they reached a certain age, so that they could, in turn, give it to the kunoichi of their choosing…and so the cycle continued."

All the breath left Sakura's body in a slow, thoughtful sigh as she patted where the necklace lay against Itachi's collarbones again. Despite how much she disagreed with the other actions and beliefs of the Uchiha clan, this seemed to be one of their traditions worth keeping, and it hurt to think that it would die with Itachi. "It's so sweet that you still wear it," she told him softly, intertwining his fingers with hers as she stifled a yawn.

Itachi let her gently pull him into bed with her, and as was their custom, Sakura curled up against him trustingly, kissing him on the cheek. "I love you, Itachi," she whispered. Although he did not reply, save for tenderly stroking her back and kissing her, long and sweet, Itachi held her close for a long time, until he finally felt her lapse into sleep.

It was only then that he let himself lean forward a little bit, resting his aching head against her hair. The air inside the house was still, despite the winds that were audibly picking up outside, and Itachi remained motionless, acutely aware of his breathing juxtaposed with Sakura's. He felt so weary; mind, body, and soul, but something inside him was refusing to let him rest, and he merely stared at the ceiling through unseeing eyes, deep in thought.

He contemplated in fragments; about death, and life, and, with considerably more length than the others…the direction his own life had taken. It was unarguable now that, on the night his and Sakura's paths had collided – the first step in the chain of events that had been triggered by the one action of Sakura leaving Konoha with Sasuke instead of staying behind – at the same time, he had set himself up to fail his life goal and utterly derailed his own flawless plan…so close to the end, as well. Making the farce of the past seven years almost entirely futile. Even now, the thought triggered a sense of regret.

Another consideration sprang into his mind unbidden, and subconsciously, Itachi frowned a little. Yes, the plan could have unraveled as he had intended. It was through no fault of his own that events had deviated in this fashion.

For all intents and purposes, he could have very well died as he had always wanted and intended to, on a blood-stained battlefield at Sasuke's hands, and with Sasuke believing his deception and hating him for it. He could have died as he had planned – alone; despised; with nobody knowing the truth, until the very end.

Instead, he was with Sakura, and that seemed to say it all. He had lived the last months of his life in the kind of total, utter peace that he had always dreamed of; at the side of the compassionate kunoichi who had cared enough to break down the pretense that he had spent years cultivating, and who…loved him. Sakura had given him the only taste of what his life could have been like, under different circumstances. Not only that, but he had reconciled with, and been forgiven by, the younger brother whom he loved more than life itself, which made him more grateful than he could ever describe. Furthermore, he had been willing to die as the acknowledged murderer of his own family, but his name had been cleared, allowing him some amount of his dignity and honor as a shinobi.

All of it…it was so much more than he deserved.

And as he had told Sakura several weeks ago, the most important thing was that Sasuke was safe. Out of Orochimaru's grasp; back in the village, and if their last conversation had been any indication…resolved to starting over in life as an honorable member of Konoha. That made everything worth it.

Itachi closed his eyes, able to appreciate the irony of it, even now. He had once blamed Sakura for ruining his plan, but in truth…

A sense of unparalleled peace and acceptance, and even gratitude, washed over him, leaving Itachi feeling more serene than he had in a long time. He was going to die, yes; that much was undeniable. But he would die at peace, beside somebody he loved.

It took what felt like several minutes to muster the limited strength that was left to him, but with difficulty, Itachi removed his necklace. After so many years of wearing it, the skin there felt oddly exposed, and the metal was cool and reassuring underneath his fingers. It was so light, but heavy at the same time – with the weight of all the promises it had carried over the generations, and finally, with this. Not quite a promise, in the same way as the others, but a could-have-been.

Very carefully, cautious not to wake her, Itachi slipped the delicate necklace around the sleeping Sakura's neck and clasped it gently. His hands were steady, but his chest was tight and his throat had nearly closed over. Briefly, he wondered whether his ancestors had felt quite like this when bequeathing the heirloom to the kunoichi they loved; whether they had been moved so deeply. It was likely that they had, but his emotions were multiplied twofold, for the obvious reason. He doubted it had been so bittersweet for them – with all of the love that they had likely felt, simultaneously blended with such crushing sorrow and deep regret and longing for what could have and should have been.

Itachi simply watched Sakura for a few moments, committing her features to memory, and staring at the way the necklace fell around her collarbone. It should have been a little bit odd, seeing it on somebody else after seven years of wearing it every single day, but it looked so very right on her.

Itachi touched Sakura's forehead once and very lightly – _if only _– before taking a deep breath, resting his forehead back against her hair, and quietly closing his eyes.

* * *

The crash of thunder woke her up with a start, and Sakura's eyes snapped open as she realized that she was actually shaking. She could hear the rain pounding on the roof, but then it thundered once more, and she shivered unhappily, turning back toward Itachi as she closed her eyes again, trying to get back to sleep. Instinctively, she moved closer and reached to wrap her arms around him. Despite his usual difficulty sleeping and how light a sleeper he was, thankfully, he never minded when she did this.

But as soon as her forehead touched the side of his neck, she froze abruptly. She stayed unmoving, but…something was wrong. Itachi was too still.

All vestiges of drowsiness falling away as if she had just been pushed into an ocean of icy water, Sakura sat up hastily, and – _breathe, breathe _– it felt like her fingers reached out to the pulse point at the side of Itachi's neck of their own accord, pressing hard, searching desperately, and—

_Please let it just be faint. Please let me just be missing something._

Sakura pulled her hand back as if burned.

She stared at him uncomprehendingly for several long moments, and involuntarily, her body reacted before her mind could comprehend what had just happened…what she had just realized.

It felt like part of her was breaking, and the small voice that she hadn't heard in six years returned, begging and pleading with as much anguish as it had when she had heard that her father died. _No, no, no, don't leave me, this can't be happening—_

Sakura leaned over Itachi, taking his motionless hand as she fought for every unsteady breath, and through her blurred vision and stinging eyes, she saw something swing forward a little bit. She looked at it blankly before her mind finally made the connection. _Necklace. _

Itachi's necklace. The Uchiha family heirloom. _More significant than any engagement ring or verbal proposal. _

…And it symbolized all the words he had never been able to say, and so much more.

Sakura reached up, gently taking hold of the necklace with one hand and Itachi's hand with her other, and she finally closed her eyes tightly, as she folded into herself as if she had been punched in the stomach; unable to keep the tears from spilling over.

* * *

_It's over._

It had been written in an impossibly shaky hand – so different from Sakura's usual compulsively perfect handwriting – on a small sheet of paper, and delivered by animal summons sometime a little past midnight.

The note was still clenched tightly in Sasuke's hand as he slowly approached the Hokage's small vacation home, breaking out of the forest. The sheer brightness of the peach-hued light, without the cover of the tall trees, made him squint his reddened eyes, and it was a struggle to keep moving even at this reduced pace. He had been traveling at rapid speed – faster than he ever had in his life – since he had received Sakura's note, and his muscles were trembling from fatigue caused by the intense, punishing pace, combined with the past several nights of sleeplessness.

He saw Sakura from a short distance away, sitting on the front steps of the porch, and dressed in her normal clothes. Her knees were drawn tightly to her chest, her arms wrapped around them as she rested her chin on her knees. Her hair fell forward to hide her face, and she only looked up when he came to stand immediately and silently in front of her. Sakura looked unlike he had ever seen her before; her face was pale and utterly devastated, and her eyes were painfully red and swollen. She looked as awful and broken as he felt.

Sasuke opened his mouth and glanced inside the house's half-open door, unsure of what to say, and reading the expression on his face, Sakura forced herself to clear her throat and speak up, though her voice was still unsteady and hoarse. "Itachi's partner Kisame came by earlier to…help me," she managed, directing a glance at the bag at her side, inside where the small ceremonial urn was nestled, and unable to keep herself from recalling her and Kisame's earlier conversation.

She wanted to relay to Sasuke what Kisame had told her, after he had taken her into the kitchen and made her a cup of tea and forced her to sit down and drink it – about how Itachi had once said he wanted his ashes scattered over the sea when the time came. But Kisame had told her bluntly and straightforwardly that personally, he felt that Itachi had been a forced exile from the home he loved so much, and was willing to sacrifice so much for, for too long. _Take him home, kid, _he had said gently, coupling the words with a sympathetic pat on the shoulder that had nearly made her knees buckle.

But the words simply would not form, and the mere memory was making her throat close over again, and Sakura just nodded several times, trying to get herself under control, even though she felt the tears pricking against her eyelids again and threatening to spill over.

Sasuke watched her quietly, knowing better than to ask her if she was all right, and instead, he moved forward slowly, taking a seat beside her. Involuntarily, he assumed the same pose as Sakura, drawing his knees to his chest and curling into himself. Now – now that he wasn't moving…now that he wasn't pouring every inch of his focus and determination and effort and resolve into getting to River and Sakura as soon as possible, he felt the first crushing impact of grief strike him with its full force, and he bit down on his lower lip hard, trying to stay silent.

Some remote part of Sasuke understood that he had gotten to say goodbye, at least. That when he and Itachi had last seen each other, and he had turned his back and walked away, heading back to Konoha – that it would be the last time he would ever see his older brother ever again. There hadn't been the same degree of shock that Sakura must have felt, but it still hurt more than he could ever have expected.

For what felt like a long time, they both sat together; a foot apart, but it felt like a lot farther away. Once, Sakura glanced over at Sasuke out of the corner of her eye, and she felt that if she had more emotional energy to spare, and if he wasn't such a closed-off person emotionally, she would reach out to him, because the pain on his face seemed to mirror her own.

Maybe someday they would be able to talk about this…but not now. She could barely think coherently, let alone even string together a complete sentence without breaking down. She just wanted to curl up in a ball and lie there in silence and make all the pain and the hurt go away, and all the breath left Sakura's body in a ragged gasp as she leaned forward, resting her forehead against her knees again and trying to breathe in and out normally.

So for now, they simply sat together in silence, alone with their own thoughts and grief, as the sun rose overhead.

* * *

The travel back to Konoha was the hardest journey that Sakura had ever made. Worse than the first, nightmarish trip to Sound with Sasuke four years ago, accompanied by the ill-fated Sound Four, and worse than the three weeks she had spent staggering around Stone in winter after Kabuto had abandoned her, and she had been freezing and starving. It was harder than all the traveling she had done with Itachi, whether she was trying to secretly guide him away from Sasuke in order to buy herself time to figure out his secret, or the tension-filled, nerve-wracking trip to Konoha, in which she had spent every step hoping with every fiber of her being that Tsunade-sama would hear them out and cure Itachi instead of ordering him killed on sight.

It was a strange juxtaposition, as well. She had been so reluctant to leave the place where she and Itachi shared so much precious time together, but at the same time, after she had come outside after Kisame had left…she couldn't even think of stepping back into the house to recover the rest of her belongings. In a rare moment of unprecedented consideration, Sasuke had done that for her.

Sakura spent the journey alternately trying her best to keep from having another breakdown, or feeling emotionally numb and paralyzed, until the knowledge would hit her again, triggering another wave of sorrow so great she felt utterly overwhelmed, and the cycle just repeated like that. Over and over again. She and Sasuke spent most of the time in complete silence, and it was late evening by the time the two of them finally entered the familiar territory of the forests of the Fire Country again.

As it always had, every time she had retraced this route, walking this way triggered an unmistakable sense of déjà vu. She and Sasuke had slowed down out of sheer weariness and exhaustion, emotional and physical, and as they made their way out of the forest and well-worn dirt path, despite how awful and emotionally drained she felt, Sakura's heart still beat a little bit faster as she saw achingly familiar walls of Konoha's East Gate. Toweringly high, and emblazoned with the village's seal at the very center.

The two of them stood side by side, staring at the gate, and Sakura sighed quietly, reaching up and running her fingers through her hair tiredly. Her former home…her _current _home. From now on. The realization tasted bittersweet in her mouth; that here, now, standing next to Sasuke on this darkening evening, the journey that they had embarked on four years ago when she had initially begged him to let her leave Konoha with him, was truly over, although none of them could have ever imagined how exactly those events had unfolded.

In the end, Sasuke had grown stronger. Itachi was…gone. And she…

But so much had changed since then, so very much, and Sakura stared up at the seal of Konoha. As heavy as her heart felt, she still had the emotional resolve to realize that this was the beginning of her new life…which, despite the crushing, crippling sorrow she felt, had to go on. As hard and borderline impossible that it felt right now, she had to walk into the village and go to her apartment and get up tomorrow morning and face the world. She had to begin training with Tsunade-sama as soon as possible, as she had originally planned to, because she would _not _let herself fall victim to the same depression that her mother had. She was a kunoichi, and she would keep fighting. She would grieve for Itachi, and she couldn't imagine _not _feeling the emptiness and sheer, visceral impact of that loss every single day, but the pain would not; _could _not, consume her. She had to be stronger than that. If she fell into that trap, she would never manage to claw herself out. It wasn't only for her own sake, but…Itachi would never have wanted that, either.

Sakura touched his necklace subconsciously, and the gesture gave her a little bit of strength. The thought occurred to her that Itachi had been through this kind of grief, too, when he had been even younger than she was now…except multiplied several times over. He had been strong enough to keep living through that torturous kind of anguish, and a muted sense of determined resolve swept through her. If he could do that, she could do this. She had to.

And that applied to Sasuke, too.

Sakura glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. They were standing close enough that she could feel his warmth against her side, and Sasuke was looking into the village with shadowed eyes as well. It wasn't the unpleasant, dark shadow of hatred and revenge that she had seen in the past for so long, but more of a quiet, introspective expression, and Sakura couldn't help but notice the difference in his manner – and she wondered what was going through his mind…not to mention how, exactly, Sasuke had been affected or changed by his last talk with Itachi.

As if he was reading her mind, Sasuke's gaze flickered to the side until it met hers. "Ready?"

His voice was unusually muted, and at first, her reply caught in her throat, preventing any sound from escaping. Finally, still unable to speak steadily – _as ready as I'll ever be – _Sakura managed to nod silently but resolutely, forcing herself to keep her chin up.

Sasuke's hand brushed against her own, and though the gesture startled her, Sakura reached out and met him halfway. Their hands found each other's and their fingers intertwined, both of them subtly seeking as much support and strength from the other as they could. It wasn't much – not nearly enough to fill the emptiness and ache inside – but it was the best that they could do.

And they walked into Konoha's gates together, quietly, bringing things full circle.

* * *

_the end._

* * *

There will be a short epilogue to truly close out this story and provide some closure, focusing on Sakura's life in the aftermath of all of this.

I apologize for the long wait, but this was a very difficult chapter to write for a few different reasons. I would love to hear your thoughts, and as always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :)


	19. Epilogue

_Epilogue_

* * *

_After my father died, I remember wishing that the grief mechanism within me would turn off after a certain period of time. It was long before any medic-nin training, but although I was still old enough to know better…I imagined that there was a small black switch in my heart, flicked upwards to the 'on' position, nestled neatly between all the valves. This switch was responsible for the times I was lying in bed at night, even after a perfectly uneventful day, and then I would suddenly find my throat closing over and my eyes burning with tears, before I ended up crying myself to sleep. It was responsible for the fact that, every day after five in the evening, whenever I heard the door open, no matter where I was in the house, I would be up on my feet, halfway to the living room, with a smile on my face and my latest test with a perfect score marked on the top clutched in my white-knuckled hand, before I remembered. _

_As much as I hate what happened to my father, in reflection, it gave me a little bit of preparation for what happened with Itachi. _

_I told myself that I would be strong. That I would go on with life, and set aside a short period of time every day, that I could think about him and allow myself to miss him. I was older now than when I lost my father, and I was stronger and braver and better able to cope._

_It didn't take me long to find that it didn't really work like that. _

_To be completely honest, at first, I thought I was going crazy. I would be in bed, half-asleep, and change my positioning slightly, and I could have sworn that I felt him next to me, holding me warmly and securely, like he used to. When I was training with Tsunade-shishou, every time she nodded approvingly at me after I mastered a new skill, for a long time, the first thought that flickered happily through my mind was, 'I can't wait to tell Itachi when I get home.' Sometimes, when I was preoccupied and had a lot of things on my mind, I'd enter my apartment and absentmindedly go through rooms, looking for him._

_It just goes to show that no matter how intelligent or mature you are, this kind of loss leaves a mark on you. I've always been considered book-smart, and everybody tells me that if I keep going at the rate I am now, I may surpass Tsunade-shishou someday. And in spite of all that, some small part of me keeps believing that he'll come back, somehow. It's not rational, I know. But I can't explain it. _

_I don't remember what life was like in the immediate aftermath, really, just bits and pieces of things. Tsunade-shishou giving me a long, serious, worried look the first time she saw me, and finally saying that I would be a stronger person for this. It didn't make sense to me, until Naruto told me what happened with her and Dan. Maybe I missed the point of his story in doing so, but one thing I thought of afterwards is that, well – she hasn't loved anybody else since then, has she?_

_Another thing I remember was that I found it perversely amusing, even then, that the only thing that could get Ino and Karin to set their differences aside was their need to look out for me, afterward. They supported me when I was down, and then helped me back to my feet. _

_It wasn't easy. I made myself train with Tsunade-shishou every day, and go on missions with Naruto and Sasuke, after Sasuke exhausted his probation peacefully and without incident (we were all still genin at that point – unimaginable), and afterwards, I would join Sasuke, Naruto, Jugo, Suigetsu, Karin, and Ino at the Uchiha Compound to try and relax. I thought I was acting normal, under the circumstances, but underneath the façade of normalcy, there was this impossible weight and heaviness in my chest that wouldn't go away, no matter how hard I tried. _

_It felt like it lasted a long time – the fresh, raw pain and sorrow dulled over the weeks and months that passed, as was natural, but it left behind something hard and strange that I couldn't comprehend. But I can pinpoint the exact moment that things changed. It was winter, and it was the actual blush on Jugo's face when he announced to our little group that he and Ino were going to attend the New Year's festival as a couple. This was immediately followed by Karin's expression of utter shock and horror, and I – I don't know. This dam burst within me, and before I even realized what was happening, I was doubled over in my kitchen chair, laughing harder than I had laughed in a long time, and even louder than Suigetsu was. _

_When I finally stopped, everybody was staring at me. Not in a bad way or anything, but just…shocked. Astonished, I guess. They looked surprised, but happy, and it was only later that night that I realized why they had reacted the way they did. It had really been that long that they had forgotten._

_I lay on my bed and looked up at the ceiling and I wondered. It felt like a bit of the ever-present tightness around my chest had eased, but it surprised me a little that I didn't feel guilty about what had happened, or like I was betraying Itachi's memory by allowing myself to start to recover again. Itachi would have wanted me to be happy. _

_Time is a strange thing. It was an effort to keep living and functioning, and at first, every day was just the same harsh grind as the day before, but one day, two weeks after I turned seventeen, I looked at myself in the mirror and for the first time in a long time, I really paid attention to the person I saw staring back at me. The whites of my eyes were…white, not red, and my eyes looked bright again. The dark circles beneath them had more or less vanished, and the color of my face was beginning to look healthier. I wasn't actively smiling, but my lips turned upwards a little bit at the edges anyway. It took me a little while to register what I was seeing. I wasn't the same drawn, pale shadow of myself that I had been for the several months after Itachi's death, and now that I was aware of it, when I looked inward, I felt the changes on the inside as clearly as I saw them on the outside. _

_It happened like that. Gradually, in increments so small that I barely even noticed it. The pain began to ease, little bit by bit, loosening its tight grip on me. There was more of 'the old Sakura,' as Naruto once put it. _

_I cried a lot less and laughed with more ease. I spent time with my extended team, and Tsunade-shishou said that she noticed that this time, when I devoted myself wholeheartedly to training, it wasn't just an escape attempt. Nights were peaceful again. _

_Be that as it may, Itachi was still the first person I thought of, when Naruto, Sasuke, and I were fast-tracked through the chunin exams; when Tsunade-shishou finally told me that I had learned all that she had to offer and that she was truly proud of me; and on festivals and birthdays and such. No matter what else was on my mind, in the few moments before I fell asleep, I would remember something about him. The way he kissed my forehead; the way he said my name. The thoughts used to hurt so much, at first after it happened, that I would have to bite back tears when they flitted through my mind. But eventually, they came to have a different effect on me. I still wished Itachi was here to share these things with me, but I would find myself gripping the necklace tightly, feeling the cool metal against my palm, and gradually, those thoughts finally became more of a silent source of reassurance and comfort, than those of sorrow._

_I'm not a very religious person, you know. I can't even imagine what the 'afterlife' would be. And yet, sometimes I wonder whether Itachi keeps tabs on me, so to speak – if he has seen what I have done, since, and he is proud of it. Or if he knows that, though considering and caring are not second nature to Sasuke like they had been for him, Sasuke makes an effort with me. It's not perfect by any means. Sometimes he just forgets, or he says something wrong, remains silent when he shouldn't, or is just plain awkward. But he gives me his long-sleeved shirt when it's cold, and he tries his hardest to be kind, and he walks me home every night after we're done training. On the days that I feel the loss hardest, we sit on my sofa together, and though he doesn't say anything, the fact that he is there, and he understands, makes all the difference. _

_I wonder if Itachi saw that it took three years before Sasuke kissed me – that he had waited patiently, for so long – and that afterward, I stumbled into my apartment and held the necklace tightly, sitting on my sofa with my head in my hands for two hours, before I made up my mind. And I wonder what he would have thought if he knew that when Sasuke asked me to marry him, he had been unable to look into my eyes for more than a few moments, before redirecting his gaze to the abstract metal circles that hung around my neck, and finished his question by quietly saying that he would treat me as well as Itachi would have – and that this, more than anything else, was what finally motivated me to nod shakily, trying my best to hold on to my composure. _

* * *

_I am all grown up now, as Ino said – okay, well, sniffled – when she made a toast at my twenty-sixth birthday, a few months ago. It has been approximately nine and a half years since Itachi and I met, and ten that he's been gone. _

_The purpose of this is to answer a couple of questions I carried within me when I was sixteen. Firstly – yes, I moved on, and in some ways, I didn't. _

_Perhaps this just goes to show that I never grew out of my anatomically incorrect heart imagery, not even after taking over as Konoha's top medic-nin in the wake of Tsunade-shishou's retirement, but…there is a place in my heart that will always belong to Itachi, for as long as I live. A little room that looks similar to one of those in the house we shared for those few months. _

_That probably could answer the second question in itself. When I was younger, I would wonder if, someday, when I'd be a successful kunoichi and eventually get married and have a family of my own and others to love…would I ever forget about Itachi? Would there ever be a time when I simply ceased to think about him, and kept moving forward with my life, burying him in the past? _

_It seemed unconscionable to me at the time. Speaking fairly, it still does now. On a purely visceral level, Sasuke has come to resemble Itachi more with every year that passes, and that similarity is only compounded by the fact that Sasuke's been letting his hair grow out. It falls bluntly to his shoulders now, and he keeps it tied back. I could never forget Itachi when every look at Sasuke is, to some deep, subconscious area of my mind, a reminder. Be that as it may, Sasuke and I hardly ever speak of Itachi to one another beyond the passing mention of his name once or twice every year or so, and that is why I am so surprised when it happens. _

_Despite Sasuke's long-ago statement about wanting to re-establish his clan, one of the things that Itachi had managed to impress upon him during their last conversation together was that the Uchiha clan had brought their demise upon themselves due to their power-hungry maneuverings. It was because of this that Sasuke flatly stated, during our engagement, that he intended to let the clan die with him. He thought, in light of everything that had happened with them, and with him and Itachi…that the clan itself, and everybody in it, was cursed. _

_I tried to reason with him, saying that we could start anew; raising our children to be peaceful, loyal members of Konoha just like us…and just like Itachi's vision of what the Uchiha clan should have been like. What he wanted the next generation of the clan to be like, honestly; when he ensured that Sasuke would settle down and live peacefully in Konoha. I admit that maybe it was unfair of me to pull that emotional card on him, knowing the effect it would probably have, but still, Sasuke refused._

_He hadn't been happy when I had become pregnant, about a year after we got married. It was an accident – and yes, it is possible for medic-nin to have accidents like that. I had been tired; my chakra control had been a little off. That's all it takes. _

_In Sasuke's defense, despite his refusal to speak of anything whatsoever baby-related, he had looked after me with as much consideration and care as possible. Nine months later, when it was all finally over and I was curled up in bed, exhausted to the bone, with the tiny baby boy nestled in my arms and Tsunade's gentle words of congratulations ringing in my ears, and when Sasuke finally walked into the room, looking drawn and weary, he simply stared down at us, obviously at a loss for what to do or say. I waited with bated breath, and after a few moments, he reached down and tenderly touched our son on the forehead, gently smoothing his fingers against his thick black hair. I couldn't help but stare up at Sasuke apprehensively, waiting for a reaction and willing him to remember the positive things I had said when I had first told him, and—_

"_Itachi," Sasuke said, finally and very quietly, before turning around and leaving the room, presumably to tell Tsunade-shishou the name and ask her to put it on the records. For my part, I just stared at his retreating back, completely and utterly lost for words. _

_The only explanation that I ever get from Sasuke is that he wanted to honor the older brother who had sacrificed so much to save his life, and who had therefore been the sole reason he had lived to see this. _

_So, no, in answer to my long-ago question. I never forget Itachi._

* * *

_I have worn the necklace for twelve years now, but it is not just a piece of jewelry to me; nor merely is it the Uchiha family heirloom that I will pass on to little Tachi-kun when he is older. _

_Just for the record, I am not a superstitious person, either. Suigetsu and Naruto always got on my case for being the one out to ruin every Ouija board game that we played with my supercilious statements about how everything was just completely fake. _

_However, I have to admit that sometimes, I have doubts. I'm a medic-nin. An intellectual. I respect intuition and feeling too, but Kabuto-sensei and Tsunade-shishou taught me to question anything that's not written down in a book. _

_There are things that I can't explain, though, about the necklace. Regardless of its personal significance to me, it is, physically, just polished metal embellished with red stones and strung on a silver chain. But when I wear it…_

_I passed the jounin exams with the exact same scores on each quadrant that Itachi received, when he took it. When I'm healing somebody, in the most intense, life-or-death, high-stress situations, I've never run out of chakra. No matter how impossibly drained I was before, I can finish the healing the person in the instant before my chakra burns itself out, so that they can get themselves back on their feet. It's almost like there is someone beside me, pressing their hands on top of mine, and giving me the infusion of chakra that I so desperately need. I kept Itachi's advice in mind and never joined ANBU, despite the fact that Sasuke, Suigetsu, Jugo, and Karin really wanted me to join their team, but I served as the medic for countless jounin teams on dangerous A- and S-ranked missions. I've lost count of the times that weapons or deadly jutsu have missed me by a mere fraction of an inch. _

_It's statistically improbable. I respect my own abilities, but I know that I'm not that good._

_It is on days like these, as I slowly walk through the compound's courtyard, gently holding little Tachi-kun's hand as he toddles along at my side, that I can't help but dwell on these things, and wonder. It is mid-autumn, and the air is cool but still, and the orange-purple leaves of the maple trees that line the path are beginning to fall. I glance up from Tachi-kun – his free hand reaching out in a futile attempt to grab a leaf; his small face puckered with displeasure at the fact that all the pretty toys are out of his reach – and catch a glimpse of Sasuke chopping vegetables through the kitchen window. He is watching Tachi-kun affectionately, and when his gaze meets mine, I smile at him and he smirks back, self-conscious at being caught in such a pure, unguarded moment. Old habits die hard. _

_When we've passed the kitchen, I reach up, unable to keep my attention from drifting again as my fingers close around the necklace absentmindedly. But the second they do so, the wind picks up, gusting just lightly and almost playfully enough that it stirs the leaves and sends them flying, and Tachi-kun crows with delight as he snatches an orange leaf from the air. _

_I stare, momentarily startled. But the spell is broken in the next moment, when I have to dissuade Tachi-kun from stuffing the leaf into his mouth, and by the time I straighten again, holding him on my hip as he rubs the leaf into my hair happily, the path is still again._

* * *

_I don't think it's about religion, or about superstition, but I think I can see now, that maybe, in some way or another, the ones we love never truly leave us. _

_So this doesn't have anything to do with the necklace, as I thought earlier. Maybe Sasuke feels it too, sometimes, and Suigetsu, and Naruto, and everybody who's ever lost a parent or sibling or somebody close to them; somebody whom they loved. _

_Still, the necklace is the only tangible thing that I have left of Itachi. I've grown up now. I'm an active-duty kunoichi and a happily married wife and mother. But I'm not ashamed to admit that I find some reassurance in the fact that in some way, he's looking out for me. _

_I adjust the collar of my jounin vest again, slipping the necklace back under the cloth and out of sight, and I turn, resting my back against the counter and closing my eyes. I'll never forget Itachi and the role he played in my life – not just for our time together, but for the fact that he saved Sasuke and, by preventing an Uchiha rebellion, potentially saved Konoha and everything I hold dear, as well. _

_But just in case I ever wake up in the morning and turn my head against Sasuke's neck and breathe in his scent as his arms tighten around me, and the first thought in my head is not one of simple gratitude that he's alive and well, against all odds – or if I'm ever not brave enough to explain the significance of Tachi-kun's name to him the first time a peer brings it up in an unpleasant way…_

_The cool metal against my collarbone is my reminder of a truly brave, noble shinobi, who should have lived longer. Whom I loved. I take him with me, wherever I go._

* * *

I would like to thank each and every one of you for reading, and for the kind words and support you've given me along the way. Reading your comments really made my day every single time, and I loved seeing every single one. As always, I hope that you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. :) The ending message of this story strikes really close to home, and as I usually do, I had the idea for this epilogue sketched out even before I began writing the story itself. If you have any questions or comments or anything, you can always message me and I'll message back or reply through the little review reply feature.

I'm kind of sad to be saying this, but I feel that it's necessary, just in case. I graduate from high school in two weeks (!!!), and I'll be working and taking college classes all summer long. This fall, I'm starting as a full-time student at the University of Arizona. While I do have a few fledgling ideas for future ItaSaku fics in my head, it may be a while until I write again, at least until my life settles down and I'm less busy – or I learn how to manage my busy-ness and find time to do what I love again. There may be a one-shot in the interim, or a few. I'm not sure yet. I just wanted to let you know. I will be back at some point in the future, though!

Again, thank you so much for reading, and any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :)


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